The Building of Light

River-blurred, inchoate border.

Dawn’s old story; and light tries—

Not the last time—to devise

           Lasting order;

From first principles assigns

Laws to frame day’s jurisdiction;

Drawing contours, shapes, and lines

From the nebula, it shines,

           Strange as fiction.

Such designs, though, won’t appear

In the plans of a committee.

Look. The moon’s pale-copper sphere

Rings—a gong too faint to hear—

           Through the city.

Let them linger, unawake.

Down the mountain’s wrinkled brilliance

Darkness empties like a lake.

Minted gold, house windows make

           Coins worth millions.

Both in disbelief and pride

All the buildings in the distance

On the river’s farther side

Take up, as the shadows slide,

           New existence.

Shadow slides along the roof,

Past the guttering and gable,

Shrinks, and leaves the house aloof

Where the light reads out its proof

           Like a fable.