There’s the blackness of space to cross,
its void of cold and distance,
8 minutes to reach us
like blessings warm and human.
Falling on my eyes, hair, skin,
this light contains all the possibilities
of physics and heaven.
Goodness touching everywhere.
One day I went into the yard
and saw a jet fly across the sun
like an arrow in the sky, in passing.
I have been wondering since,
back to the streams that flow into another,
the way love and beauty take their time to perfect—
I turn my back on neither.
The way to life, easily enough.
Garden City Park