This little light. A meditation.

Snow and pavement, shadow and light.

When I let go of the angst, the me inside the complaint, I become nothing and the complaint falls. When I reach into the quiet and drop the thinker, the "bushel" around me falls and I "let it shine." I smile and open up like a new story page freshly drawn in an artful manner. This light is not mine, but it can be seen like a city on a hill at night.

There is no taking away darkness, there is only the adding of light. The darkness is necessary for a light to know itself, yet the light can never be the darkness.

Yet, sometimes it seems the light disappears. In our Multi-Verse we have many different ways for light to be experienced. There are forces so powerful they draw all energy and matter into them. The light so absorbed still exists, however. It waits while being transformed into something new, it awaits the next chance to be light again, as a flower.