How the Light Comes
I can't tell you
how the light comes
What I know is that
it is more ancient than imagining.
That it travels
across an astounding expanse
to reach us.
That it loves
searching out
what is hidden,
what is lost,
what is forgotten
or in peril
or in pain.
That it has a fondness
for the body,
for finding its way
toward flesh,
for tracing the edges
of form,
for shining forth
through the eye,
the hand,
the heart.
I cannot tell you
how the light comes,
but that it does.
That it will.
That it works its way
into the deepest dark
that enfolds you,
though it may seem
long ages in coming
or arrive in a shape
you did not foresee.
And so
may we this day
turn ourselves toward it.
May we lift our faces
to let it find us.
May we bend our bodies
to follow the arc it makes.
May we open
and open more
and open still
to the blessed light
that comes.
by Jan Richardson
At this time in our country's history and during this jubilee year devoted to hope I read this poem (and also was sent it from another Sister who used it for prayer). Hope is not always easy, nor is working for justice, whether in our world or in the Church itself. And yet we must continue to be people of Hope, people moved and opened more and more and still to the Light we have come to know and witness to. Sincerest thanks to Jan Richardson for such a wonderful poem!
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