Even the Darkness
We must, she said,
open ourselves.
Like desert
to the night
sky, like a baby’s
mouth. Or words
in the unread book.
I nod, say
I understand, turn
and close the door.
Even the darkness
knows better.
O at the Edges
Musings on poetry, language, perception, numbers, food, and anything else that slips through the cracks.
O at the Edges 
“Even the darkness
knows better.”
In its wise and honest ways, it does. Is this a new piece, Robert? It’s perfect.
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Thanks, Tre. Yes, it’s new – the first draft emerged in December.
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You’re most welcome. Ahh, I see.
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The darkness always does. Just beautiful, Robert.
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Thank you, Annie. The darkness carries much wisdom.
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What a slender, sly slice of beauty!
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Thanks, Cate!
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Turn and open your door …
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That too is an option.
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Wise poem. Wonder what will happen when you open the door once again? Surely it will another wise poem.
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One can only hope…
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Love the images here. Totally identify with “she.”
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Thank you, Deborah!
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Good one … leaves me wondering if I really understand anything …
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I live in a state of constant bewilderment.
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Very beautiful.
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Thank you!
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Either we open and risk what the darkness knows being seen, or we don’t open, and risk everything else. Not much of a choice for the living…
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Fear can do strange things to us.
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Even with the door open, I see the darkness. Bur your words show there’s a way.
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A good lantern also helps. 🙂
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I really liked this poem. Good to make a connection with you. Best wishes, Michael
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Thanks very much, Michael!
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Beautiful — and reflective. Sometimes the fewest words say a great deal. Thank you!
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I, too, often find that less is more. Thank you, Allyson.
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