Thursday, 9 November 2017

Bright With Darkness: A Poem

There is no harvest, no ripeness
only gleanings from
bare ground
of what may be

The sweet and simple 
sleep of youth 
is gone 
has been gone for years 
gone with the dreams of wonder

I do not belong to myself
but to circumstances 
uncontrollable, unasked for

But what if I called? What if I stared 
into her face? Did I willingly 
turn to stone, choosing stagnation 
over life? 

Perhaps there are reasons why 
based not on reason, but a deeper 
knowing, beneath understanding—
a holy mystery

I chose this

A small pebble 
buried in the earth—
must I dig my way out?

I love the depths, and darkness 
and would rather dwell there 

Yet mountains call—peaks—
places of clear sight; 
perhaps a better vantage from which 
to see into the dark deep

After all 
the moon’s light is not her own
though she wears it as if illumined 
from within 
bright with darkness 
bridging both

Only in the third place can the mind merge 
the opposites

If I have a patch of dark 
bare earth 
and air and sunlight
perhaps, in the place between
something will grow

(October 2017)

The Moon, by Adam Cebula (Source: Wikimedia Commons)


  1. Generally, I've withdrawn from the online world for now, but I had to respond, Therese... This is SO deeply beautiful, thank you!
    The imagery reminds me of Charles Simic's 'Stone'... do you know it? It's a real favourite of mine!
    Sending love from 'the place between' (I think it's where all the growth happens... 'in the third place' is where Truth dwells xx)

    1. Thank you so much, Claire. I'm never quite sure about what I write, especially my poetry, so it means so much to me when people respond positively.

      I'm not familiar with Simic's poem, but will check it out. Thank you.

      I hope your withdrawal from the online world is doing you good. x

  2. Even as you write of bare ground, you can't help but bring forth the flowering of creation, did you notice?

    1. Yes! Even in writing about not being able to create, the creation is occurring. Something of a paradox; and it always brings a good feeling with it, however fleeting.


Thank you for taking the time to comment. I love hearing from you.