This entry is part 48 of 55 in the series Morning Porch Poems: Spring 2012


Why can’t it be light I’d

like it to be light not

light like that light

coming in the window warm

morning at last but light

like a billowing unseen

without any sail


In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.

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3 Replies to “Light”


    Is it the light that breaks through “yonder window”?
    (It is “the light through yonder window breaks”).
    Is it the sunrise? Is it the setting colours of the sun?
    Is it the light at the end of the tunnel? Is it the light
    of an indescribably lonely but caressing soft light?
    Love, life, living, leaving, lost in the Light’s embrace:
    Is it any of these lights, in so many more words, you crave?
    Or are these lights too light to light your lightened light?

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