By Susan Kjellberg
Artwork by Laura Vickery
I hold this light in my hand.
It is so fragile.
It flickers
and bends
and seems to disappear…
But then,
just before it vanishes,
Just as all hope seems to die with it,
It strengthens.
It gathers it’s warmth and brilliance, around it’s self like a mother gathers her children near during a storm.
And with what seems like a last gasp of illumination,
It grows brighter.
And brighter…
I hold it in my hand with such trepidation, I dare not exhale…
And then,
And then,
I share my breath with it,
And it stops quivering.
It expands.
Brighter.
And Brighter.
And BRIGHTER
Until my palms are filled with the luminescence of Hope and Reslience and I open up my hands
and I RELEASE it like a newly hatched butterfly.
And for that moment,
the darkness is banished.
And I am made whole again.
Susan Kjellberg is a first year ChIME student from the White Mountains of New Hampshire who often finds solace and clarity through writing and singing.
She is a companion for her community during births and deaths (as well as other life transitions) feeling grateful to be able to bear witness as the door swings in both directions, the Light welcoming on either side.
