I wore a weighted shawl blacker than night,
Colder than winter wind. But I thought
Cotton swaddled me, and supposed that I
Walked in light.

Then a hint of gray . . . a ray . . . This blur of bright
Light slowly spread. Weak eyes kindled, I watched darkness disappear.
His sun appeared above pacific waters, and summer days dawned—
Endless seascape, reflecting golden light.

Gift of savor and sight for insipid night—
O taste and see, then be, His salt and light.


IMG_0469.JPGChristine Laws writes and edits from her home in northern Maine—a quiet place where she can revel in God’s grace, His wonders, and words.

Photography by Kenneth Godoy

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