The light after a storm

A poet must go outside
for at least ten minutes a day,
no matter the weather.

It is a mercy of the kind that leads
me to continue
to believe
in a force of Love in the universe
that there is no light more beautiful
than the light after a storm.

Pristine, piercing, fragile it falls
out of postpartum clouds
still heavy with their rumbling
remnants of rain,
aching for release.