Redemption

In the moon’s absence I chase a curtain of light. Although the dark terrain’s uncertain I run with a canning jar its lid poked with holes to let the light breathe. While my father watches I fly. With diligence and enthusiasm I continue, even when the light scatters, until I catch a spot of light to hold and place in a jar to contain its afterglow. To catch a star, I think, to catch a dream, and I recall my father’s advice to reach for a constellation. To touch Heaven, I yearn. I watch the glow until it fades and find joy in something simple as it enriches a moment in a short span of life.