There's a candle on my nightstand named komorebi which smells like autumn and pine. It essentially means sunlight filtering through leaves. There is no English equivalent of the word even though there is plenty of equivalence to the feeling. You could imagine such a thing described as... maybe treelight... maybe melancholylight. Though I love the way it comes through trees, I love how it lights the ground more. Many wondrous wishes for your Saturday.
Between the world and the word
are three small shapes,
the signs for ‘‘tree,’’ ‘‘escape,’’ and ‘‘sun.’’
I watch how the light leaks through them,
casting a shade in both directions
in the late year, on the russet path
barred with the shadows of trees.
I love how it exults, like any escapee,
on the lake in slow reflective waves,
in radiant bands ascending the birch trunks
according to some unknown frequency,
and in the cormorant extending his wet wings to it
in a messianic gesture,
as if dazzled to absolute
by the word and the world’s beauty.