Ciclo LV

The light on the water this morning — Dio, the light — it does not illuminate the canal so much as it becomes the canal, and the canal becomes the light, and I cannot say where one ends, where the other begins; my hand follows what the eye reports, but the eye reports what the light permits, and the light permits only what it chooses, and so I write not what I saw but what was shown, which is not the same thing, never the same thing, and the page holds it still while the water moves on.