You are so bright, she said.
How you shine.
It is not anything to shine.
It is so dark down here where I am.
Will you still shine on me?
I will shine on you as surely as dawn and rivers
filled with moonlight.
But will your light reach me?
As certainly as rain and pure as the call of wild
geese
I will shine on you.
How can I be sure?
All things fade and die.
Light is a thing that does not end.
Through ages and eons the light will reach you.
I feel the shimmer in the air as you come close.
Look for me at daybreak. I am near at hand.
Is that you in the dewdrop?
Is that you in the glimmer of the bird’s dark eye?
Is that you with your small mouth open?
Is that you with your soft soul drinking me in?