terrypetersen

Darkness is an unlit wick; it just needs your touch, Beloved,

to become a sacred flame.

What sadness in this world could endure

if it looked into Your eyes?    

(Francis of Assisi)

 Morning hasn’t fully appeared. It’s autumn, that portion of the season where gold transitions into rust and darkness slowly chips away hours of light. Two squirrels chase one another in a circle in the street. I watch them as I drive in the opposite direction. I can’t guess why the squirrels have decided to argue or play in traffic. They don’t know it isn’t a good idea. I hope they get out of the way before a car comes along. But then I don’t know life’s answers. What happens appears random.

There are so many times I would like to find the wick Francis speaks about, discover light and then share it. I want to know why my youngest granddaughter was having trouble waking from a nap Wednesday afternoon. Is she getting a fever? Does she hurt somewhere? Her speech isn’t adequate yet. My eyes searched hers. We cuddled. Her small body conformed to mine. My effort didn’t feel like it could be enough. Can any human-to-human comfort bring complete healing?

Then I spoke to a friend who has experienced inexpressible loss. I can’t give her what she wants. It has been buried along with the only someone who maintained family for her. All I could give were two ears and two arms. They won’t stop the darkness from coming. In the seasons. Or in her life.

I watched my father sleep through his appointment with the eye doctor. No treatment this visit. His body has become a shell. My touch, a kiss on his forehead, has most likely been forgotten like a lost dream.

Now, as a new day begins, squirrels and people take chances. The sunrise blinds. Sunglasses help, but they make the edges of darkness even more difficult to face. The brightness makes me think of the eyes of God, too much for anyone to take in. They need to be diffused through blue sky, or through the actions of others. Any smile. . . hug. . . human gesture that never embraces the whole need. Nevertheless, it lets sadness know that it is attached to a spirit, capable of transcending any season.