...this is the passing of all shining things
no lingering no backward-
wondering be unto
us O
soul, but straight
glad feet fearruining
and glorygirded
faces
lead us
into the
serious
steep
darkness
The silence as broken at last by the bell signifying the end of morning activity. Turning to the old woman, I asked, "What are you looking at?" I immediately flushed. Prying into the lives of the residents was strictly forbidden. Perhaps she had not heard. But she had. S1ow1y she turned toward me, and I could see her face for the first time. It was radiant. In a voice filled with joy she said, "Why, child, I am looking at the Light."