When it's up outside, it's time to be up

inside everything else. Including you.

listen while you read

Carriers of Light

for the whales

They swam inside the collars 

of stiff-shirted men, 

the skirts and corsets 

of well-contained ladies; 

the silk folds 

of tightly-rolled umbrellas.

Were worn round bodies, 

and held over heads,

through rain, sun, seasons.

The bones

of mighty-to-behold creatures. 

And all their sacred oil,

that flamed street lamps

for carriages and coachmen, 

lit night lamps for readers,

for lovers,

fed ticking clocks 

on tall mantles. 

Essential fuel, 

rare as the milk of Queens,

spilled wantonly, unwantedly,

from the ancient rovers 

of the oceans,

from unfathomably many

innocent carriers

of light, life; song.

a thought

The Sun is a dynamic star. So are you.

a QUESTION

How and where do you hold, or withhold, the light? Inside yourself. Or hold it for someone else? Or pass it round. Or dial it up. Way up.

one member said

"I want to be the same way I like my eggs:

sunnyside-up."

a call to experience

Let the felt fleetingness of your time on Earth move you to uncover all your light and lightness of being while you're here. Because how, and where, and how largely and freely you carry it, and let the light of others, people to animals, add to yours, is what makes each of our lives all the more visible. All the more vital. All the more possible.