The sun, as we would expect,
knows the light
very well.
And so he spreads himself out
like a gift, to us,
his dark universe;
though he himself sees nothing
but light,
knows nothing of shadow.
It is a mystery to him,
these places hidden
on the backsides of planets
and moonless nights;
these caves, these inner rooms
where his light can never go.
This, friend,
is where you must go;
you who are fallen
sun-dust
who long ago decided
you’d had enough of light,
who still remembers
the original darkness:
probe deeper the shadow
of the dark night.
You will be the answer
to the sun’s question.
* * * * *
This follows on my previous post. Knowledge has limits, and that is where wisdom and intuition come in, though it looks like ignorance and corruption. The allusion to the Dark Night of the Soul is purposeful, as well.
Another excellent poem. You really are a very talented poet, could be famous. In fact, had you signed it Emerson, I wouldn't even had doubted it once, it's that good.
ReplyDeleteAh, Cym, you just set me back ten years in my persuit to dissolve my ego. Thank you though :)
ReplyDelete