Magnitudes of Light


There are things that pass unnoticed:

Candlelight that flickers with arbitrary will. 
The fluorescence of drained light bulbs 
beginning to fade.

Whirls of foliage are filters for
Transient light that drips like coffee into a pot. 
It meets the ground,
Dancing as mellifluous whisks.

A resilient sunset of every day,
Crimson red bleeding into indigo blue.
Light tears through the cloudy curtains as sunbeams, 
Before it fades in wait of the pulsating twilight.

The light that’s cast from bejewelled chandeliers 
Barely settling upon the hardwood floor,
Brushing moving faces with luminescent glow- 
Silky, like the golden effervescence of champagne.

Beyond the sky lies dissonant stars,
Like scattered pearls of a broken necklace, 
Orbiting within the interstellar debris of nebulas, 
A swept-up mass of dust and gas.

These blinding, intergalactic lights:
Mere splattered spots
To a child that leans out her window, 
Tracing constellations in the veil of the night.

Light laces its fingers together with time
To create impermanent serendipity, the moments that pass unnoticed.

The dream life of Marilyn Ngoh (Class of 2023) would be a glamorous one of staring into a computer screen and writing until her eyes run dry.