There are days when light is not out of the corner of your eye, blazing, but straight down your middle, a burning solid. You have felt this before:
When you walk into a room, and you have always been there without being there.
When you meet a stranger's eyes, and you have found who you are without finding it.
When you say, "I don't know," and you know that you don't, gladly.
When you are afraid, and you stumble out of your cave, squinting.
When you towered up a vertical mountain, and you couldn't have if you tried.
When you are quiet, and you could have said a million words.