Shedding a Little Light on Light

'To explain its full nature,' the ferret says, 
'would require a more brilliant tongue 

than mine; but I can provide a few pointers, 
if someone will stow my mice away for me. 
I stuffed them with chestnuts and chives, 
so I don't want to lose them. Rodents 
have a habit of disappearing round here. 
Take that as a starter-while light is, mice 
 
do not vanish mysteriously if you keep 
your eyes on them. Light comes 
from the sun or the moon, or the fire 
which flowers in trees when the sky forks. 
Light strikes our eyes and shows us what 
is what and where is what. That is useful. 
Now, you may ask me: how did light 
get into the sun-but does it matter?
 
I feel it was the work of some great ferret, 
a hero of our race; but I have no proof. 
Light is good and beautiful, and I approve.' 
He removes his spectacles, and checks 
his turnip watch. Tucking a furry roulade 
snugly under each arm, he toddles out 
into the tooting street, humming an air 
from L'Arlesienne, greeting old friends. 

© M.A.Griffiths