meditation on 'light'

this multitude of candles
so brightly lights this place they sit
i must cup my hand behind
each wick to see if it is lit.
                                 2007


to
focus on the flower
is
to deny that the tree bears fruit.

seeing now
what was then
shows me there was hardly any light:
my eyes were slits in the darkness
when i stumbled on those candles
of which but a few were lit.
i wandered, dazed,
among them thinking i'd found the sun.
now that my eyes have adjusted
i recognize dawn for what it is.
i shade my eyes.