The Moya View

Tag: Light

  • Branch Psalm

    Branch Psalm

    Branch PsalmBranch PsalmThe dead branch inscribes wild reminders to the wind.How many nights since it first blossomed did it revel in leaf brushing against leaves, know the fall of years,feel the rain drip away, nourishing the earth, staining this continent with its open, quiet astonishment?It felt the sapwood itch itself into new rings, lose its…

  • Inside and Back

    Inside and Back

    I journey towards the night watching the light recede.Awaiting me, an unsteady dreamscape of losing things and beings and never finding them.But, there is also the ocean,of waves cradling me to sleepwith the lullaby of my name’srepetition- marooning me from the sound of others,the fears, anxieties to come.Yet, my unconscious tugs me towards the new…

  • Light

    Light

    When I was a child light shone angels through my fingerscrowning my parents’ faces,blessing the simple tasks of theirs: table setting, pouring water—how it lit the world in my upturned smileand flowed through as I grewand how it followed me homeand stayed, even in the dark.Light was the water, earth,reflecting off every animal, every street,…

  • Silent Little Boy

    Silent Little Boy

    The mother watches her first child in his first wintercatch fistfuls of sun—watches the dust and airriding down to the crib—waiting for the mobile to play sweet music in the arc of light—and the sweep of his hand to its frame.The melody plays but not the words.It’s for mother and childto complete. The mother knows…

  • Trying to Follow My Mother

    Trying to Follow My Mother

    This morning the ghost of my mother haunted me. There was just peace, calm, a blue-green shadowy crystal shimmering steady above my sleeping chair. She came at a time when only I can see and know her- before the last dream and dawn, before the others  awakening, she pulsated lovely and in proper motion through…

  • Cup of Light

    Cup of Light

    I watch the light filter through the sky, touch the grass. It moves thru the window forming a yellow light in the glass on the table. Barely glimpsed, it moves again, almost touching the room where you are dying.

  • Fragile Fleeting Light

    Fragile Fleeting Light

    It’s the weak light that remains in memory— the fragile fleeting light that stays an ephemeral moment behind gray storm clouds, rosy dawns, rainbows, streaking like a meteor— and is gone…

  • Snow Chapel

    Snow Chapel

    The world exists to remind us to see: the snow chapel in all its brightness— soul’s landscape asleep, forgotten, until bells remembering.