A Poem: Light Rays

What happens when I get myself out of the way.
How I stand in the way of the light,
my ego a ball collecting wool.
My mind sometimes an echo chamber of opinion.
My heart, a wounded thing needing shielding.
That I stand, armoured bulk in the doorway,
face in shadow,
wondering where the light is
and how I might reflect it.
The tap so gentle that I jump and turn.
How light catches us at the corners of our eyes.
How it disarms us before we have a choice.
How we are all melting candlewax under its gaze.
As light reminds us to lower the battlements.
That it would have us as open transmitters.
And how ego is a child ashamed.
And the heart now, a wound receiving balm.
And the mind, a school for sitting and listening.
The light falling
now the way is cleared,
in warm, bright ribbons on the floor.
And we two at the table, sipping tea,
exclaiming about the clarity of the day.

Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
March 2022