The light is light. It’s singular when it’s emitted from the source. It shape shifts as it travels down to us. Different wavelengths different frequencies, serving different purposes.

On its journey to entropy it meets rays that came before, rays that were refracted into a myriad other ones. Each meeting of the rays a source of varying intensities.

The photons brimming with energy in a dance with one another as if celebrating the arrival of the annual summer harvest.

It encounters friends from a life before, the atmosphere, a tree, a rock , a grain of sand, remembering them as it knew them, just as light before.

It promises them colors knowing it shall never fade since the harvest of light is perennial.

The human concepts fall short when faced with questions of astronmical gravitas. We forget that the light of the universe is within us and not light years away.