Borrowed Light

I wake up well before six a.m.
I rub my eyes
and raise the blind
quite suddenly to find
those coloured clouds behind the water tower
are beautiful
I think about a photo
but see how the colours
fade by degrees
now I almost
forget myself
absorbed, at once, I find to my surprise
I’m like a new-born babe
swathed in red light
but this is no rite—serious and solemn
I waver at the window
and just because I have borrowed Its light
inwardly I murmur
my gratitude to Heaven

BORROWED LIGHT