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