You are the pale glow in the east. You are the sliver of bronze that appears on the horizon. You are the faint, oh-so-faint yellow glow that starts to lighten the sky. At first it seems too small, just too little to make any difference. But then it grows and grows until the entire sky is ablaze with gold and pink and azure blue -- until all we see is You. You are the hope of a sunrise: hope that at first seems not nearly enough, but when it's taken full shape, we wonder how we could ever have doubted it. It was so sure to come: how could we not see it? You are the glow upon white winter snow, the light of the sun reflecting off of each individual crystal of ice. The sheer purity of it leaps into our faces and blinds us. We can hardly stand to look at it. It is so clean, so pure, so untouched. There is nothing to mar it or alter it; even our footprints do not change its purity. It practically shines with its own inner light. That is what You are like. Actually, it is like You. For it takes purity to make purity.

You are the rose-gold of a summer sunset. You are the fire that lights the sky. You are the grandeur of the wide open expanse above our heads all ablaze with the colors of royalty. Reds and golds and purple and pink and orange and hints of blue, still insistent -- all of these only show me how playful You actually are. You are the rough-and-tumble of the "loud" colors thrown across the heavens. You are the rugged laugh of a setting sun and a darkening sky -- which, even though it darkens, does not die.

You are the multifaceted light through stained-glass windows. You are the subdued blue light through a Chagall window: deep and calming and utter peace. You are the color spots that glitter across the stone floor of the cathedral. You are the gemlike shattering of light across the room into a thousand different colors and facets. You are the jewel-hues on a face upturned in prayer.

You are the clear sky on an autumn day, all deep blue and pierced through with sunlight. You are the infinity of the vast expanse that has no end. On a day like this, the sky is true as You are true. You are all azure and gold and bright and regal and as hopeful as a morning like this.

You are the deep, velvet night sky that wraps us up and calls us safe. You are the pinpoints of light in the sky that we call stars -- actually, You are the purity of that light and the hope of it. You are the rest and solitude of darkness, for it is in You that we find our rest. It is in You that we lay down our heads and sleep in peace. It is in You that we can know: all will be well.

You are peace and solitude and community and friendship. You are beauty and refinement, ruggedness and laughter. You are purity and cleanness and sweetness and comfort. You are joy and adventure and an invitation to come: to dance and sing and laugh and play in the light.

You are Light.