And Then There was Light

And Then There was Light

Sitting at the kitchen table, tea nearby,
focused on the task at hand,
I find myself leaning forward.
Cat-like, I unconsciously seek out the
sunlight, streaming in the front door.

I pause, sip and close my eyes
allowing the warmth to wash over,
soak in
and slowly seep into the darkest crevices
of my weary soul.

I imagine my appearance –
a cross between
the flowering cactus in the window
which only buds on the “sun” side,
and my cat who does not just sit in the rays
but lifts his head, throws forward his little gray face, closes his eyes and smiles,
as the light casts a rather angelic glow all around him.

In the beginning,
upon the face of the deep- 
dark, without form, and void,
the Spirit hovered- rāḥap̄-
soft, relaxed, brooding, fluttering, moving, shaking-
the introduction to a new story.

The Creative’s Voice
A spoken word, bringing forth life –
poetry in motion.
“Let there be light”;
and then there was light.
And it was good.

The separation was made.
Light and darkness divided.
The light penetrates in such a way,
that even in the space named for the darkness
the Creative allows,
in the firmament of the heavens,
a light to rule the night.

What does it matter?
Why ponder the beginning, the light and the darkness
and the why of a cat and a flowering cactus
leaning into the rays of the sun?
The task at hand is waiting, impatiently,
and the tea grows cold-
and still –
I pause.

Let there be light.
Throw open the door and allow the sun to stream in.
And then there was light.
I have not made time for it, but my body knows to pull towards its warmth.
And it was good.
I pause.
The separation was made.
The light penetrates the weariness within, distinguishing itself from the darkness.
Light and darkness divided.
Although the space of darkness receives a name, it understands that in the firmament of the heavens, it will always be ruled by a light.
And so, it moves aside.
It must.

The Creative’s Voice brushes past, in this moment
offering me a spoken word, bringing forth life –
poetry in motion.
“I am the light of the world.
He who follows Me shall not walk in darkness,
but have the light of life.”

In the darkest crevices of my weary soul,
upon the face of the deep –
dark, without form, and void,
the Spirit hovers- rāḥap̄-
soft, relaxed, brooding, fluttering, moving, shaking-
introducing my new story.
And then there was light.