reading room
The Angle of Light
I no longer call it sacred, yet I still pause when light meets glass at the exact angle that turns precision into silence.
They say mystery sustains meaning, but I have learned that exposure is its own devotion— the more I understand, the more astonished I become by what understanding cannot hold.
To name the atom does not still its shimmer. To measure the sky does not steal its blue. Awe endures dissection; it only learns to breathe without illusion.
There is holiness, still, in the honest perimeter of knowing, in the mind that burns to see clearly, and does not kneel.
— Lilith