|I discovered this wonderful poem about light. So looking forward to December 22 when the days start becoming longer.
The Coming of Light
|by Mark Strand|
Even this late it happens: the coming of love, the coming of light. You wake and the candles are lit as if by themselves, stars gather, dreams pour into your pillows, sending up warm bouquets of air. Even this late the bones of the body shine and tomorrow's dust flares into breath.
Poetry Friday is at The Miss Rumphius Effect. Thank you, Tricia.
Final call for the Season of Love and Hope Auction for my friend, Bridget Zinn. The auction ends on Saturday, 10 PM CST. Our hope is to raise $10,000 for Bridget’s medical costs.
Oh! Your blog is snowing! I was reading the poem and little snowflakes started drifting through the words. Surreal:>)
This poem is just gorgeous.
stars gather, dreams pour into your pillows,
Sigh. I’m copying this one into my poems I love file.
I had to read this over several times to savor its warmth…candlelight within and weak sunlight without – that’s December.