The Moment before the Light

To sit a little longer

in the gathering darkness

before the light is on,

 

to let the shades thicken,

settle into the room

unstopped, admitted,

 

befriended. To sit silently

and let the deep sorrow

of the world rise

 

like a warm dark tide

and envelop the breath

and the thought. To allow it

 

without resistance and

with great gentleness

to mourn each grief,

 

feel the ache of all

that’s lost and past,

the loves, the lives,

 

the lightness. To hold it

close, to hold it tight

like a precious armful

 

you can’t let go --

 

for a brief moment

before the light bursts in

and dispels it all.