Light shone through the cracks as though it were escaping the confines of a wicker box. How the light got inside is a mystery for another day – surely the light should be outside? Perhaps that’s where it begins. Within. Light. Darkness. A spark of creation. A void of emptiness. Maybe the level of light, the amount of light, defines the ‘it’.
But if the light, or lack there of, defines the it, the it must always be there. Always has been. And from that, maybe allowing whatever is within to shine triggers light of its own.
Let light escape.
The Mansionic Perspective 
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