Silent stood the quiet light

Old hands twisted it around

Louder and louder in the night

While the moon shone.

Silent stood the whispering light

It was one form but separate

It changed, obscured from sight.

The hands moved quicker.

Silent stood the singing light

The bony fingers pushed the creation around

And marvelled with such delight

Of its work, the light began to move.

Silent stood the dancing light

Moving as one, the colours adorned

The shape of the frail and slight

Maker, softly flowing.

Silent stood the laughing light

What was the light being?

Why did it change, why so bright,

And strange to the eyes?

Silent stood the crying light

It tore, the maker stood there,

Tears flowing down her sprite

Face. Such a waste.

Silent stood the quiet sprite

Old hands twisted it around

Quieter and quieter in “The Light”

God looked down.