Poem October 31, 1988 Issue

Home light

Julie Crandall Foskett

We have taken, it seems, a voyage into the deep.
The darkness upon its face says it covers us, too,
claiming past, present, and future for itself and its world—
apart from light of day.

Blissful ignorance, not so blissful now, pleads
for new awareness to undo the dream of night excursion,
unblest in its quest for diadems of dust.

What, then, is needed to lift the cloak of fear and falsehood
worn, it seems, so long? Why, trustful willingness to part
with threadbare thought that alternately promises and threatens, never waking from its own dark spell. Be willing
to let the waters be divided—
to "let the dry land appear."

Now see the soft glimmers of light—
fingers of the hand of Love—
beckoning sight to truthful view of shining peace,
lifting the cover of infant blindness to reveal
our firmament of home!

Julie Crandall Foskett

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October 31, 1988
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