Darkness

I know too well the darkness that I see and feel

I know the comfort that it brings to me

The isolation, the loneliness that seals me away

Yet I long for the sunshine, its brilliance and warmth

Its energy that I lack.

Dare I step from the shadows into the light?

So many things to be done along that path

Can I, do I have the strength to see them done

Would someone reach out, no, it is mine

My track to take, my footprints to make

Put the darkness behind me one last time

Deep inside I sense it will be a fruitless attempt

I know the light dies and darkness returns

I will begin again to struggle to wrench myself from its cloak

Again and again and again

But I will rise against it time after time

If only to see the light in the distance and dream of its embrace

To imagine the passion it holds for my being and soul

Tomorrow, tomorrow is my day, my chance

For now I will lay in the darkness hoping for that tomorrow…

Sunday morning Out the Front Window

It’s nearly the middle of the morning, brilliant sunshine and pale blue skies have brought on the day. Lost in the morning activities the changes outside catch your eye; it’s time to relax for a few moments and gaze out the front window. The thick blanket of white that covers the front yard is beginning to sink to the contour of the earth.

The grayish planks of the front walk are dry; the tumbled stacks of snow along its edges seem to guard the corridors of passage. Icicles hanging from the eves reflect the sun from their frozen crystal shapes while a constant flow of droplets begin to fall from their sharp tips.

The air is clean, crisp, no longer the harsh stinging cold that revealed your breath hours earlier. The radiance of the sun warms the south facing surfaces while the shadows hold on to the chill of the winter day.

Images of winters long gone by slip silently into your mind. Snow ball fights with your brothers, lopsided snowmen sentinels built with leather mittens, ruddy red cheeks and dripping noses, admonishments for tracking snow across the carpet. The acrid flavor of your coffee momentarily changes to a sweet chocolate taste. The urge to abandon the morning chores and step outside to play grows inside; soon to be subdued by more mature impulses.

Turning from the window you leave the enticements behind with a shrug, in favor of more noble behavior…