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Deep Shadows and Pulsing Waves of Light
By Jane Tawel
February 1, 2026
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There doesn’t seem much more to say…
But is it because words fail,
or because there is so much to say
that thoughts cascade like raging waters,
tumbling over the rocks of disbelief?
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My stony heart creates the stubborn patterns
of fears that justice will never roll down
like waters again.
The riverbeds look so dry,
and how can the tears of the trampled
restore them?
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On the long, long journey
back to Home,
We have ambushed ourselves
with the trappings of our ingratitude
and our floods of unchecked greed
are no longer dammed
but damning.
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The rivers dry up
with the mud and muck of multitudes
of unheard cries and barren hopes.
The plains are icy —
keeping the healing in check.
Our baptized souls have been
swept clean of the colors of the rainbow
and the Earth is hardening
over the frozen souls.
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There is still the Still Small Voice
in the vibrant luminosity
of all who have suffered
at the hands of those so certain
that their worship
of the black and white cartoon characters
have nothing to do
with everyone’s instilled radiance.
We strive to shine
like shimmery dewdrops,
called to reflect
Great Majesty
in all small things.
Only after the storms come
can the Sun create a rainbow.
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And so, we continue to dance —
multihued and dappled
deep shadows in the shallows,
and waterfalling, pulsing waves of light.
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The Universe conspires
to flood our barren land with Hope,
and flood our waiting hearts
with Love.
© Jane Tawel, 2026
Jane Tawel 