Often it is the ocean itself
that speaks in its roiling voice
its thunderous tongue.
What it is saying
I have listened to for years,
as it crackles and whips,
or whispers in its silken tones.
Even now I am not sure of its message,
its assaults of thrill and boom
shattering the rocks
into flares of light.
Something about Mystery,
something about uncontainable
Love.
Watching for light was her vocation. Light and life were one and the same thing. There would be no life without light; it was the beginning; it was the substance that made things visible, that brought humanity to an awareness of what cannot be seen. It could enhance a thing and make it holy. This she had felt in her life as in her work, a sense of reaching for harmony beyond the human experience through light itself.