They say you have to embrace the darkness to discover the light. They say. What do they know?

I could show them darkness.

The inky new moon night that encloses me like the walls of the womb.

The Mese Verde tunnel, scraping my head and shoulders, through which I crawl like a babe forced through the birth canal.

The childhood bedroom, where I awaken at three in the morning to my mother’s louder-than-childbirth scream, that births me into the dark.

I labored in darkness, in that madness, born of an enshadowed imagination haunted by ruin. There, a mirage masqueraded as light, offering only illusion.

I could show them light.

Transformation, after I pierce the inky veil of my own chrysalis.

Serenity, when I practice the magic of surrender.

Enlightenment, after my eyes open and burn from a brightness I’ve never seen.

I practice in light, in that wisdom, born of an enlightened mindfulness present in life. There, truth witnesses itself, offering reality.

They say you have to embrace the darkness to discover the light. They say. I’ll show them the darkness and the light.

What will they say then?

just a hint

of purple in the sky

before dawn

the moments I incarnate

through poetry