Slowly ripped open by light

The hole in the top of the tent you call your mind slowly ripped open. The glowing light was to immense for human language to deal with, all I can say is it was radiant perfection. Who knows what happened to the glow, it oozed out that day.
Two weeks later we heard the beat of that glow return to our little house, it was getting darker and the nights colder - but how could we say no to the light. Never questioning our motives or us its, we bathed in its majesty for hours. We wrote notes to all our friends to come, they never did. We never found out why. But that glow, the glow. The day you broke your skull in Bologna train station was the most defining moment of my adult life, and the following two weeks of sleep went so quick. Then the awakening, our little home, the glow return.