No light.
A little humming sound
in the darkness but no light.
Black dog is invisible across
the room. We wait together
for the gift.
Christmas packages under the
tree…O how I loved to rip them
open…anticipation, excitement.
But not today. Now we wait.
Loose the ribbon slowly.
Savor the moment. Joy is
in the revealing.
Soft morning light falls on
the window pane, then slowly,
slowly drifts across the cluttered
desk, just touching the edge of
my bed. Black dog is a faint
outline, a still silhouette. Little
by little shadows evaporate when
touched by fingers of light.
The unhurried wave of light pours
over the tile floor, thick syrup
spreading over warm pancakes.
I want to touch it, touch the presence
that slips through my window. I
want to dive into the light, swim in
the luxurious liquid that caresses
everything it touches.
Black dog stretches and moves to
my side. We sit together on the
bedroom floor, both amazed at the
loveliness of the gift, both grateful
for the rite of revealing. She lays
down beside me and drifts off into
sleep. My hand rests gently on her
side. I feel her heart at rest.
The beautiful gift is open
Day is here.
All is light.
Sonoran Desert Writer 