There is a pane of glass
In my house
That the light shines through
At 4pm
In winter
That sunbright shaft
Touches the leaves of a plant in the corner
That otherwise lives in the dark
all day
I hold my fingers to the glow
Feel them warm
Dust motes twirl
Turned to gold
Magical.
Just for a few moments
Each day
That plant is reborn
Inhales a deep breath of all the nutrients it requires
To photosynthesise
Energise
And stay alive
So much darkness
And only minutes of light
All that it needs
Arrives
Right on queue
But I wonder
As might you
Does it spend the in between
waiting
Or growing
It’s dark green leaves
And does it ever fear
The light may move
Seasons turn
But I’ve observed
The light returns
And that plant
Is over thirty years old
So
It’s either growing in faith
Or
I would say
It knows something I don’t
I really enjoyed this poem because it takes something so simple—a beam of sunlight—and turns it into a reflection on patience, resilience, and trust. The image of the plant receiving only a few minutes of light each day yet continuing to thrive for over thirty years is powerful. It made me think about how we often worry during difficult or uncertain times, while nature simply continues growing and adapting. The ending especially stood out to me because it suggests that the plant may not be waiting in fear for the light to return—it may simply trust that it will. That idea can apply to people as well. Sometimes growth happens in the darker seasons of life, even when we can’t yet see the light.
Thank you for your thoughtful comment and yes, you have caught the scent of the poem very well.
Such a poignant poem. The lines, “I hold my fingers to the glow” and then “turned to gold” makes me think of the spinning wheel weaving the golden thread out of straw. However, yours is much happier unlike Rumpelstiltskin’s.
Thanks Cath 💕💫
I knew trees can live very long, but I had no idea that house plants can live for decades. Thank you for a beautiful poem, capturing a moment that could so easily have gone unnoticed. May we always open our inner eyes to the magic all around us.
Hi Yacoob, yes I bought this plant before my husband and I were married – I repotted it once – last year and it enjoyed the new soil, same pot. I call it our marriage plant because it’s been around longer than that. It looks very well and will probably outlast the pair of us – it’s a nice thought that perhaps one of the boys will keep it alive
Beautifully captures how a fleeting, ordinary moment of winter sunlight can feel entirely sacred and restorative.
💫💕