The Light of the Ages

At this time of year, the light from the primordial fire burns closest, dearest and brightest. However, like the air we breathe and the mind that makes us, we cannot always see it. It is a primitive streak that blazes through the living, flashes in a blink of the eye, animates every blood cell, and trembles in every nerve. It is the light of the promise of a new beginning, a new birth on Christmas Day and every subsequent day. You need not look for it “out there”, for it is in the look of your eye– reflective, soft and shimmery. Yet behold! There in the window pane its golden bloom from the kitchen candle! And there, atop the adobe wall, its coppery sheen illumined by a hundred faralitos! And regard its glimmer in the trail of tiny white lights climbing up the grand tree in the plaza! When some untold darkness crowds your lungs and dampens your soul, take an ember from that first fire, tuck it like a brilliant bead into the pouch of your belly for safe keeping. Give breath to the spark within you, let your passion for the living go unchecked. Tonight, go to the highest hill. There under the crystal vision of Polaris, the northernmost star that guides all seekers on their journey, send out your prayers. Like slivers of light, let them radiate in a thousand directions to heal the wounds of the world.