A poem about sacred moments in darkness.
(Image description: A photo of a hand holding a lit tealight candle in its palm, with the fingers slightly curled. The hand is surrounded by darkness.) Credit: Photo by Eyasu Etsub on Unsplash
Blessed Darkness
A frustrating blackout
is a moment in time
that holds secrets, sacred enigmas.
The cloaking shadows behind your eyes
lull you into into wonder-filled lands,
places of adventure and potential.
The darkness carries a heavy silence, containing
a cricket’s chirp and primordial beginnings,
small and grand glints of infinity.
The flicker of candlelight against the dark
is a monk’s lantern, giving life
to the golden, many-hued forms on the pages.
A cozy, dark den cradles a fox family,
the roots and moss a canopied bed,
a lullaby of rustling tails and soft breaths.
Murky depths surround the sunlit paradises
of the spirits and the Beloved Dead,
lands of eternal beauty and life.
The shade of the new moon conceals
the returning blessing of its silvery light,
as the cycle turns from summer to winter.
Times of darkness reveal truths,
the sanctity of bright havens,
woven into its very fibers.
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