Heaven's Light

What is that warmth
filtering from above?
It treads the surface of my home
like ripples on water,
it opens my dry eyes and
although silent it resembles laughter.

Who is that light,
that light I glimpse in stages,
half-way marks between the darkness
when my tender face eases
closed. Please let me wander
toward that shifting glow.

I can feel it now
surging through my young bones;
a feeling of renewal
not unlike the rebirth of elders.
I can almost see it now --
please let me live to touch this heaven!