Compline

The Darkness of night

Mutes and dampens color all around,

Confining the artist’s palette

To midnight shades of green, blue, and violet.

I crouch in the darkness:

Protecting my paper from the rain

That drips from the clouds

While I pen these lines.

Beyond me, squares of yellow light

Stream across the night

Their shining glow inviting all to a room,

Warmed by a fire crumbling into ash.

Light is such a tricky thing:

Particle and wave, produced

So freely, so easily,

And so undervalued.

One could say that

Light is a well-defined mystery

Like… Christ or

The Eucharist he offers.

I walk Home.

Without light,

Or light from light,

I would be lost.