ETHELENE JONES

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A Certain Slant of Light

The light, never exactly thus before,
Slants in early morning mist
Like shafts of bright steel
Holding together massive framed
Skyscraper world.

I breathe this air,
Revel in luminous shimmer,
Dance on grass bathed in dew,
Drift in imagination
Like an eagle soaring.

I see stretches and buckles of mountains
Cut by waterfalls and rapids
Resplendent in light.
I am intoxicated with a certain slant of light
Piercing through September fog.

Earth and this light embrace me
With arms stronger than mountains,
With Time longer than days and nights.
I move, sheathed in reflected light,
To the illuminated Center.

c1998 by Ethelene Dyer Jones

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