You hold the sun in the palm of your hand Lord,
lengthening or shortening the shadows
according to Your will.
And we wait every year
holding our breath, as if once You forgot us
and with fear You will forget us again.
As if the shadows
will continue to devour more and more and swallow
up the trees and the houses they cast themselves upon,
like a black hole drawing all life to itself to sustain its own death.
So that when darkness finally starts to recede,
we are so taken up with worry of Your forgetfulness,
it takes us some time to see the light lingering a moment longer
on the front step before it says goodbye.
But the moment we do, we remember: You have not forgotten us,
You never really do, it is us who forget You.
Photo Credit: Shannon Trigos
