LIGHT FROM WHERE?
On the evening of September 25, 2014, my son, Stephen, and I were sitting at the picnic table on the porch looking at the sky. And we began to wonder, as we had in the past, why the sky looks so bright in the east at sundown. Where does the light come from?
I had just been telling him about a poetry prompt his sister, Jamie, had chosen for her Poetry Thursday, and that I wasn’t sure what to do. Her prompt was to ask yourself a question using Who, What, When, Where, Why, How or use all six. So, he said, “Well, there’s your question.”
We talked about it more. Then he and I collaborated to write the following poem:
SUNSETS AND LIGHT
If the sun sets in the west why is the sky in the east brighter than the sky above us? Is it because the sun rays bounce off the earth and fade as they travel skyward? Is there a light coming from below or is there something above shading it? Whatever the cause be it direct light or reflection the effect is beautiful With blue skies above pink shadowy clouds dark outlines below We pause to reflect gazing in wonder at the handiwork of God.
MEMORIES AND A SURE HOPE
I miss those times together with my son. Stephen left this earth at the end of November of 2019, a little over five years after we wrote the poem. He was a deep thinker, an artist, a writer, a gifted young man. I am thankful for all the writing and art he left behind. It doesn’t just bring back memories. It’s as if a part of him is still here with us, though we can’t converse any more.
We will never stop missing him, but we have a sure hope that we will see him again one day. As we read these words of Paul in 1 Thessalonians:
Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope.For we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him.1 Thessalonians 4:13-14 NIV
I want to end with a poem Stephen wrote in December of 2015. Take some time to ponder his thoughts. What do you think of his conclusions? Do you agree or disagree?
It spins energetically, it thrives, it thinks, it hurts. But we don't notice. It laughs, it cries, it jests, it questions. But we don't notice. Why is it here? Why does it ponder, play, and feel? We don't care. We are too busy. What keeps our attention? What are we after that keeps us from pondering our existence? We don't know. All we know is we want it and are going to get it no matter what. It is a struggle – a race against time, a war against space. It is only I, my enemies, and my goals. I know of nothing else. Are we not blinding ourselves? Is it so ridiculous to think we are each part of a greater story, A story much broader than our private realities dared allow? Perhaps it's time to stop lying to ourselves, Perhaps it's time to embrace the existence we keep running from, And be what we were created to be, More than hungry beasts, More than indifferent apes, But children of the God whose image we bear, Creations of the Creator who brought about this phenomenon, This mysterious, wondrous phenomenon we call Planet Earth. ~Stephen J. Wright~ (1990-2019)
(This post originated on my former blog. I have updated it, but the poem my son and I wrote is in its original form. I also added an original poem by Stephen)
I’m linking up with: #InspireMeMonday