Everything, But Light

As we tumble into the season of short and brilliant days, consider this true statement:
We cannot see light, we can only see objects which light illuminates.

So, how do we see non-object reality? Things like joy, pain, contentment?

Yesterday I was again blinded by light, this time as I walked westward along Deer Creek in the late afternoon. My own poem came to my mind, and here I share it:

Everything, But Light

In a half-dream before waking,
little capsules of color
almost like bubbles

dance in dark space
and the Universe trills
so pleased for playfulness

and beauty. Even injured
and disappearing ones are
wholly acceptable.

Rendered in haiku—
within and between
the void and all matter, you,
an ovoid rainbow—

those two words appear,
(void, ovoid)
one above the other,

one letter of difference,
only that
circle of potential apart.

I rise into the promise
of day, sunshine flows
from just above the horizon
straight into my eyes.

I lose sight of everything
but light.

~~Carol Bindel