Saturday, April 3, 2010
Seeping through sheer curtains the sun pooled in a certain spot where the ceiling met the floor. Too big to crawl, (big girls don't crawl) I crawled anyway and found the warm light. I curled up like a cat and kept very still. No movement to disrupt the weak rays.
She'd sleep for hours. He was gone far away on a ship in the deep blue sea.
In the quiet, dusty corner I was everywhere. On the deck with him. A mermaid in a lagoon. A princess in India dancing in the sun. Cleopatra on the Nile.
I'd stay until the earth shifted and perhaps it was my foot or the top of my head, either way some part of me was tainted by shadow and the light spell was broken.
Grown now, I am a creature who prefers the dark. Dark spaces, shadows, rainy days. I'm surprised by the memory of quiet mornings and light shaft moments. I wonder who I could have been if six had not turned into seven.
In the church where I've found my own peace, it is the season of light. I'm trying to embrace it.
I wish I lived in a lighthouse. A lighthouse keeper, or his wife? Which story would be better? Or their daughter? The one who died. Yes. That's it. The Lighthouse Keeper's Daughter. A ghost story. OR maybe I'm the lighthouse itself. Sending out rays into the shadows.
Happy light season for all of you who celebrate.