Starlight offers nothing
to the deep seer; moonlight,
sunlight offer more but neither
does the job as does an artificial light
held close, a flashlight perhaps,
better still a candle, a lamp
lit by hand best of all. Tossed between
flickering and steady light, our vision
adjusts and questions — is that
a bird, is that something marvelous
or demonic? Is it both, or neither?
We don’t know. We are not made
to know. We are made to sit still
and wonder until it settles into
ordinary. Until we sigh inside —
oh. Oh, that’s what it is —
and we feel the deep letdown of it
falling into place, quite ordinary,
utterly full of precedent.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
onward,
T
Dark Matter 