//covered in gold (or, a library older than light)

(started here)//for all the burdened who chase the Son

the light was exhausted from shining.  volcanic air had thrown so much dust and debris and hurt in its face as it rose, and refused to let more than weak strugglings of light reach the ground in mexico.  it cheered up when it saw georgia, but choked on the atlanta air and pollen. finally, it stumbled into the broad, comforting arms of a library.  the struggled through the window, even though the sky was finally clear again, and fell into the library’s lap with all the exhaustion of a child.

‘i need rest,’ the light said.

‘then rest until the morning, when you are new,’ said the library, and stroked its hair.