Light

"In him was light, and that light was the light of men." "The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has never overcome it" (John's gospel, opening chapter)

Lord, you invite me into the light
And I avoid you. 
Thinking you mean the cold, forensic light
Of the operating theatre.
Causing intense but healing pain.
And I fear and won't come in.

Or the eye-watering, squinting brilliance
Of your sun-radiance.
I need that - gazing at stars, twisting the limits of mind
Around bafflement of distance and scale:
Holy God, Remote, Unreachable.
Too much "love" for a human to handle safely
Far too much - you terrify me! (And I don't want
To bother you)

But I feel you beckon me in by candlelight.
Where I can focus on my hands.
And your voice.  And look at my feet, when your voice
Gets too much for me.

I feel safe in that warm light. Quiet. Known.
You take the edge off my reserve and awkwardness,
Leading me by stealth to open up layers
Of myself that you knew about
Before the world was formed.