In the summer evenings the sun arrives in my lounge, and at about 9.30pm there is a golden late afternoon light that pours in. It’s a magic moment, one I have always enjoyed.
The other day with all the unrest going on something wanted to be written on the blank sun-drenched paper on the wall:
At some point
Beyond it all,
New truth becomes a necessary harbour
At which to dock and weigh anchor,
make new prayers
and holy actions.