Light and a Poem

Light - I am obsessed with ensuring its adequate presence. Thick curtains are kept to a bare minimum. We are lucky to be in a home with very little noise. And plenty of natural light. We hardly draw the blinds at night. The beauty of the streetlights and moonlight streaming in is a pleasure.

But, office lighting is all wierd. So many tubelights shining over employees heads even when there is bright sunshine outside. And to position yourself in various angles to avoid the glare and ensure visibility of the stuff the monitor displays. I often dream of an 'open-office' - breeze and sunlight in abundance. Maybe I wouldnt find it in a corporate office. Wonder where I would!

While on those thoughts, stumbled upon this gem. In this poem the poet says this of Sunlight: 'Resting on the page, the word is as beautiful, it touches you as if you had a friend'

The Word
By Tony Hoagland

Down near the bottom
of the crossed-out list
of things you have to do today,

between “green thread”
and “broccoli” you find
that you have penciled “sunlight.”

Resting on the page, the word
is as beautiful, it touches you
as if you had a friend

and sunlight were a present
he had sent you from some place distant
as this morning—to cheer you up,

and to remind you that,
among your duties, pleasure
is a thing,

that also needs accomplishing
Do you remember?
that time and light are kinds

of love, and love
is no less practical
than a coffee grinder

or a safe spare tire?
Tomorrow you may be utterly
without a clue

but today you get a telegram,
from the heart in exile
proclaiming that the kingdom

still exists,
the king and queen alive,
still speaking to their children,

—to any one among them
who can find the time,
to sit out in the sun and listen.