This is the light
Which the mentor talks of
These are the stills
Where greens are green
Where reds are red
Where love is love
Where hope is never lost
Where desire shines on desire
This is the light
Which falls out of Eastern windows
That loses itself so damned quickly
In the wool pile carpet
While it lets its sky
Be framed, quartered
By the lead lights
On the double-glazed glass
This is the light
Of the all of our knowing
This is the light
Which I show to you now
