The Color of Sunlight

Photo by Author

Do you remember the time
when you knew nearly everything?
It was not the certainty you’d missed nothing
only the quiet unhurried trust that
there was nothing more you needed to know.
All the things that would one day happen:
the dragonfly landing on the back of your hand
the half-moon rising in snow-furred branches
the dog breaking a rabbit’s back
one day in the barnyard;
all the gorgeous horrible things you’d see
were right there where they were
supposed to be.
You knew the color of sunlight
melting on water was just another way
of hearing god’s voice.
And god still came, back when you knew
nearly everything
and sat close by your cradle
waiting till the world closed its eyes
waiting to take your hand and pull you
underwater, where all the dreamers go
swimming through the soul of everything
learning to speak in voices clear
and cool as the color of sunlight.