The Same Light

by Jill Chan

On the second day of the year,

the air seems fresh,

new to the ways of beginning.

I stumble out of bed,

waking from a sleep that lightens,

that makes my morning

into day, into action.


How little it has changed.

No matter the differences,

we can be happy

in similar measures.

The same light,

the same adoration

of someone or something,

the same unmendable love.