It is so easy to forget
that light begins our day
    and ends it,

that light is the warmth
to which we are drawn
    like a plant's leaves are helio-

tropic, turning to face the sun
as surely as a clock
    matching the rising, falling arc.

One wonders then how
it is that we don
    a wardrobe of darkness,

how all that experience offers
shadows us, how we put on
    our days like a suit of musty clothes

draping ourselves in pose,
position, so that the humility to delight
    in sunshine, candlelight

goodness abandons us,
and we bear no memory
    of how the light

first lifted us out of darkness.
We ignore the simplest truth, forgetting that
    it is into light we must surely return.