The Light Continues

Every evening, an hour before

the sun goes down, I walk toward

its light, wanting to be altered.

Always in quiet, the air still.

Walking up the straight empty road

and then back. When the sun

is gone, the light continues

high up in the sky for a while.

When I return, the moon is there.

Like a changing of the guard.

I don't expect the light

to save me, but I do believe

in the ritual. I believe

I am being born a second time

in this very plain way.