A Collection of Light

The sun breaks through the clouds, turning all in its path to gold, like a pocket from heaven broke open because it could not contain all the glory hidden within. I believe that's what sunsets must be. I believe that's what light must be.

Each dawn is a promise.

Every morning you rise to see the sun, or even the dim gray light of overcast skies, it is a promised manifested.

He uncovers the deeps out of darkness and brings deep darkness to light.

I've lived in a basement room without windows for the last twelve years. And you'll never find a photographer who says they aren't in love with light. So maybe I'm not a bit light hungry.

But you can't deny this:

Light gets in. There isn't a morning it doesn't rise, there isn't a night it does not pierce. There isn't a crack it does not find,

It can burn and it can heal, it can take and it can give, and there isn't a life that can grow without it.

He dawns on them like the morning light, like the sun shining forth on a cloudless morning . . .

The sun is there because it is a promise. Some days it is hard to find, hard to believe it will come out again.

But what you look for, that will you find.

Love, Kayla