The Age of Sunlight

A moment's reflection on a refraction plus a metaphor (aren't they everywhere?) embedded in a hall of mirrors.

. . . . . . .

I once heard that light takes
tens of thousands of years to travel from
the center of the Sun to its outer edge,
that it is way older than we think, that
beginning with the fusion of
atoms in the core, light reflects
back upon itself and outward,
bouncing off protons
like a hall of mirrors,
until it finally escapes the Sun’s surface
and begins its narrow journey
into dark and empty space.
Yet, just tonight
one bright shaft,
intercepted by the Moon,
full on this cold night,
glances toward Earth, then refracts
through a thin layer of crystalline snow
that had fallen silently
as evening arrived
and the clouds lifted, so when
I lean to gather a final
load of firewood for the stove,
the empty field is filled with diamonds.
Is this your journey also? So improbable?
So filled with wonder?