We are only touched
By the beams, brief
Before the light goes
Before it pilgrims away to the other place

She says: the candle flickers

But will not flicker out.

The light is always more than yesterday.

Or even worse, she might become aware
Of the wounded world, that all of us
One day pass on. That I, too, will be a name,

Breathed out among names, on a Tuesday afternoon.

your loss and your piercing pain
radiate His luminous glory
whose weight you alone must bear