Thomas Martin Sobottke is exploring in poetic prose the place of light in the Christian Church season of Advent and its connection to the divine presence; to that inexpressible something to many that is greater than ourselves. The Judaic tradition speaks of God Emanuel or God among us in terms of a great light. The season of Hannukah and Christmas and so much of the Winter Solstice celebrations all revolve about light.
It moves at a hundred eighty-six thousand miles per second.
The fastest thing in the universe, an energy
spectrally refracted into all the colors of the rainbow.
Cutting into enveloping darkness where we stumble, then fall, falling in
a self-love so arrogant and prideful that it demands it’s all about I, me, moi,
where there is nothing greater than us anywhere so that we
perfect ourselves and take our place unchallenged
so we think.
Where complete darkness covers us in a mortal blanket,
Like moles we crawl beneath the ground blundering and do not see.
Where all our fears roam free
they hunt us down
in the terrifying blackness and we die alone
knowing nothing of hope.
You know they say even the tiniest sliver of light
where a solitary candle silently burns,
light enters to displace the darkness.
There is hope.
It is love.
We see our father.
Our hearts are cleansed
to receive the light.
The better Angels of our nature.
Whitman’s sprig of lilac.
A mother’s single tear encompasses all that is love,
Laying down the life of one for another
magnifies the light.
The light of our father leading us on to
all that is right
expressed in eternity.
Bathed in the heavenly light
knowing that love is God
and God is love.
We are satisfied.
We behold our home.
by Thomas Martin Sobottke