The Skylight

You were the one for skylights. I opposed 
Cutting into the seasoned tongue-and-groove 
Of pitch pine. I liked it low and closed, 
Its claustrophobic, nest-up-in-the-roof 
Effect. I liked the snuff-dry feeling, 
The perfect, trunk-lid fit of the old ceiling. 
Under there, it was all hutch and hatch. 
The blue slates kept the heat like midnight thatch. 
But when the slates came off, extravagant 
Sky entered and held surprise wide open. 
For days I felt like an inhabitant 
Of that house where the man sick of the palsy 
Was lowered through the roof, had his sins forgiven, 
Was healed, took up his bed and walked away.

—Seamus Heaney (1939 - 2013), Nobel prize-winning Irish poet and translator, from Seeing Things: Poems, 1991

Scripture reference: Luke 5:17-39