sing back the light

She woke me with the gentle touch of a feather across my face.

Get up, she whispered. It’s the dark times. We have work to do.

I resisted. I was tired. You got that right, I said. These are the dark times. I need coffee.

She followed me into the kitchen and that’s when I noticed her wings.

Ok, I said. Who exactly are you again?

She sat and waited for me to stir milk and honey into my cup, drink, come awake.

We need your help, she said, ignoring my question. To bring back the light. Dark and Light are poised in equal balance, she said. Our job is to make prayers, offerings to coax the light back from the place of darkness.

So wait. You want my help to do what?

I want you to help us bring back the light.

I laughed. Things have been a little dark for me too, I said. Not sure how much help I can be. Are you sure you came to the right address?

She smiled. I’m sure.

It’s not hard, she said, but it’s not exactly easy, either. It means you offer yourself to a world in need. Offer what you can promise as a token to the light that needs coaxing. You know, courting…like a love song.

I cleared my throat. Ok, ok. Dear light, I began, feeling foolish, I see that you have retreated into darkness and honestly, who can blame you. I’m not sure what I have to offer, being just one small person, but here goes.

I pledge myself to kindness, which really is harder than it sounds. I offer my patience to those who come to me for comfort even when I feel too busy and want to turn them away.

How am I doing?

Just fine, she said.

 I promise to remember the extinct ones of air and water and earth. I promise to sing their names so that my children and their children will know how they once flew and swam and roamed in freedom and in beauty.

Go on, she prompted.

I offer my willingness to be vulnerable to those I love. To say I was wrong, I’m sorry, please forgive me.

I offer myself to the gods of creativity and ask that I not waste any impulse to share what I make out of false modesty.

I offer my prayers to the ones no one prays for… the voiceless the homeless the lonely and broken.

I was suddenly wide awake.

She took me to the edge of the universe and showed me where light and dark stood in perfect balance, where time stopped, where the darkly chaotic gaping void threatened to engulf the light. It was cold and she wrapped me in her wings.

Within each of us, she said, is an inner sun that is needed to call back the light from the extremes of darkness in the world. We are being asked to assist in the renewal of life, to bring back the light of spirit from the far reaches of a devouring abyss.

But I feel small and frail, I said. I don’t know how.

Start by nourishing happiness in order to handle grief, she said.  Light a candle. Let it grow into a bonfire. Throw into it all false ideas of your smallness, your limitations that no longer serve you. Grow your light from the radiance of the flames. Dare to become who you are meant to be. Ignite your inner joy and let your life-giving sense of self become a beacon for others.

 Find a place of refuge where you open in generosity to the oneness of all life. Feel the timeless that is trying to enter the world through you in order to heal the trance of separation.

 Let the spark that is your own radiance start the fire that becomes the flame that beats the drum that calls up the winds that bring down the rains that paints the sky that restores the holy hallelujah in the midst of darkness.

Sing yes, she said. Sing now. Sing the song of grace and surrender. Sing for what we can’t yet name but know is on the horizon. Breathe, she said.  Bloom, she said. Blaze.