And the day climbs down from its blue loft-bed on a slanting ladder of sunbeams, pauses a moment between the trees, airy-light, young.
Your humble light the fire of your mind blinds you: If you walk with a lantern in the dark you won't see the stars.
It must be those brief moments when nothing has happened - nor is going to. Tiny moments, like islands in the ocean beyond the grey continent of our ordinary days. There, sometimes, you meet your own heart like someone you've never known.