The creek, despite our abundant rains,
is surprisingly dry, its rocky bed exposed
along the shore and making islands
in its center. Still, sheltered as it is
by the wooded hills, it cools its surrounds
and sings its quiet song. And here and there,
where the light rolls down and falls
beneath its surface, you can see its clarity.
Light does that. Its radiant energy
rolls all the way from the sun, down
through the millions of miles of space,
through the layers of atmosphere and cloud,
past the thick canopy of dancing leaves
and through the slow whispering waters
until it finds earth, bouncing off everything
on its way, flowing right into your eyes
to show you clearly the truth of what’s there,
the Yes of all the things that were hidden
in shadow before it came, rolling down.