Light is truth, light is knowledge, blah blah blah. You know the drill. In a poem about the mind, we'd expect to see light pop up every now and then, since the mind is, you know, where we store knowledge and all. But Moore uses light in new, exciting, not so stale ways. Let's take a closer look.
Lines 2-4: The sun shines down on a katydid-wing, creating a glaze that looks a lot like a bunch of nettings, or a glittery web. This reminds us of the way the mind can make all kinds of connections—you know, those light bulb moments Oprah's always going on about?
Lines 21-23: The sun shows up again (isn't he always?) to animate the dove's neck, which sounds a lot like some sort of enchantment to Shmoop. Aren't those magicians always animating things?
Lines 30-31: Although it isn't said straight up, we can assume the sun is still shining on the dove's neck. And in this case, it's creating fire and iridescence.