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I see my light come shining…

Ángel Marroquín

The sun is shining over the old Ireland. People happily gather in the streets and parks wearing light cloths. Like in one of Brueghel`s painting, faces rejoice and get drunk dancing, the fields are busy with the heavy labour of the harvest, people laughing in the beaches and parks.

Life manifests itself in its full range of possibilities. Nature seems to be celebrating: the orgiastic desire of plants, birds and animals is expressed in the ceaseless songs of birds, the unstoppable growth of plants and the erotic bellowing of the cows, bulls and sheep around the fields. Nature sings her immortal triumph over the winter. The sun is the absolute sovereign, and his daughter, the light, his emissary.

The sunlight extends into the night. The darkness recedes, pursued by the light that becomes more transparent as the 21th of June approaches, the longest day in the north hemisphere. The dream of a summer night. Twilight is then amplified and the gradations between pale pink and deep purple are seen on the horizon line stimulating the imagination.

On these summer days I keep thinking about the light, and I wonder: Is this light coming from the past? Is this a kind of ‘historical’ light that brings back memories of other summers, similar and different to this one?

There are old photo albums. We see ourselves in a beach wearing summer cloths, running in the field or playing in the street during a summer of nineteen eighty-something. Those who appear in the photographs are far gone. Those who are by our side this summer make us feel their warm presence, and, as we know, this summer will not come again.

But the sunlight also illuminates our future, especially now: isn’t this summer different, happier because we have left behind months of confinement, loneliness and uncertainty? Is not this gratitude a kind of light, maybe the only one capable of guiding us through the autumn and the harsh winter that will come? Will not the memories of the happiness that we experience now be the fire with which we will warm ourselves during the cold winter?

That is why I say that this light comes from the past, the light that shines this afternoon while I write this, which is also projected into the future.

As a carpenter told long time ago: “I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail”






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