Ode to Darkness

Dearest Darkness,

I wander your moonlit arroyos and thank you for the stars.

They are sharp as cut crystal this time of year.

It is because of you that I can see the stars, remember where I come from, be reminded of all I have yet to know.

Your cold pierces my comfort, the heat lighting my body.

I want to see you alone. That way you can tell me about the patience and vulnerability of stones.

They crack with frost but are not afraid to sleep for a time with a frozen heart.

I am not a stone, but can still learn from them.

We of this Earth sometimes fear what we might find in the secrets you harbor.

This narrow window of long desert night is also a delicacy, a rare and wonderful delight. I want to hide out with you, curl up close, light a fire, get a hot drink, cover with a quilt, and descend into you.

You bring gifts as wonderful and precious as the light's, but yours speak a language of dreams, and shadow. You restore what has been lost, open what is closed, free what has been locked away.  

You show me treasures invisible in the day.

This is time to find the truth of fire.

So for this season, I will take time to gaze at your midnight mirror, to hold close your emptiness. It is there that the future resides, what might be if I could only see.

I will sit with you, the dark, and invite you to sing your soulful tune as we whisper to each other in the language of winter.

I will try to love you no less than the light.