by Moya Cannon

Light is what days are made of –
it pulls the daffodil up out of dark earth,
prompts the eagle and the stub-tailed wren to nest
and draws the humpback whale north with its song.

Stones, warm on the morning sea-shore, know it.
Our sun is so much older than them –
such tempests of grief it has scanned
yet light, like love, eternally draws us on.