Master of Light

Poetry is born spontaneously of inspiration. I wanted a poem to share at a friend's birthday party. How would I tap the center of creativity to express sincerely some of the qualities Dave shares by his many talents? As I was driving home Sunday the midday sun on a wooded hillside reminded me of his photography and presentation of light therein. Then it started to form lines in my mind.

Have you seen the light today?
I see it on the sunlit birch stands
awaiting first winter snow.
It shows in weeping willow domes
golden-yellow with expression.
And in the marsh grass
stark against dark wooded hills.
Three green leaves atop a bare, young cottonwood
like summer's standard still flying.
Then the blue sky behind the skeletons
of black walnut whose leaves fall first.
Or the few maples that have not yet
released their claim to autumn
where red and burgundy once ruled.

Have you seen the light today
in the season's progression?
On the road home?
Or in the portraits
by the master of light?

Happy Birthday, Dave!