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A home without a wall, |
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| Dark Poetry #1 |
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Arctic Station (Re-posted) |
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mcclain Junior Member
since 2000-03-22
Posts 13 |
They never tell you it's not a dark night of the soul but a season breath-held to a silence far north of the heart to a silence windless in darkness sucked hollow as teeth of all daybreak, brittle as ice but more clear, thicker, pitiless They never tell you dread is not trembling or sickness but stillness in darkness, windless the frozen wastes at the pole of your life where you crouch under stars themselves ice flecks floating due north of the soul long past comprehending incomprehensible cold Why didn't they tell you it lasts not a night but a lifetime drab as the comfort of fools Why do they name plural what's common: dark everydays of all souls who dare pay attention Why do they speak of one night and not of the first, as if morning could cure it as if that were the worst of what waits indifferent in darkness to how you fear suffering thaw blister through you Beneath northern lights long despaired of their windprism brillance ablur only now as you drowse deeper down shock melting slow shock of truth [This message has been edited by mcclain (edited 04-20-2000).] |
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