When Day and Night Knew Each Other Well
We had a solstice over the weekend
And a new moon
It was easier
To live in the dark
A hundred years ago
And a hundred more
Maybe a hundred more
Not to equate darkness with ignorance,
Not at all
Imagine how the stars must
Have been,
For certainly they’ve changed
How secret was a secret
When extinguishing a candle
Could blow out the gathering
Make unreadable
An agenda
To send us home, instead
The greater darkness
Wasn’t bad or good
It was
It was the setting
And the means
Maybe we paid more attention then
Our night-vision was better
When ambience was lightless
In the distance
Or up front
It might have been generally possible
Not to see the hand before the face
And not to be afraid of that
Maybe darkness
Was a friend
To the criminal
And carpenter, alike
The darkness said
Slow down
Don’t move without
Knowing where you’re going
It was a signal
For the rest
For rest
(yes, maybe in a forest)
Maybe for rehabilitation:
Come the new day
You will be needed with
New muscles
And a readiness
In attitude
To contribute to
An ever-new, new world
C L Couch
clcouch123 
June 22, 2020 at 7:41 pm
Magnified, sanctified, be thy holy name
Vilified, crucified, in the human frame
A million candles burning for the help that never came
You want it darker
Hineni, hineni
I’m ready, my lord Leonard Cohen.
Maybe the dark ages will return. Have to keep the candle burning, Christopher.
June 23, 2020 at 9:41 pm
Yes, we do, Len–and thank you. Thank you for the quotation, which is so apt. Like candles (and with candles), we need to arrange and share our pieces of and parts in illumination.
June 23, 2020 at 11:04 am
This is beautiful writing. It takes me to the country side and village where this still occurs.
June 23, 2020 at 8:18 pm
Thank you! I’m happy and relieved to know there are places where day and night can be more purely observed and celebrated.
June 23, 2020 at 1:51 pm
Oh how you beautifully showed the essence of darkness, brother. These lines, genius:
“Not to equate darkness with ignorance,
Not at all”
June 23, 2020 at 9:44 pm
Thank you, sister–and I hope you’re very well! Even where I live, which is not a big city at all or near one, the ambiance of artificial light makes it hard to see the stars. But I’m sure how they are and darkness overall can become remarkable. And what they might symbolize for us.
June 24, 2020 at 5:13 am
That is so true. I have realised that our seeking of light makes us blind to the beauty of stars at night.
June 25, 2020 at 6:51 pm
They’re wonderful quantities. Two of the first things made.
June 23, 2020 at 3:33 pm
This really spoke to me. You have such a great gift for word artistry! I’m a night owl and feel at home under the moonlight, cloaked by the sacred veil of night. “Not to equate darkness with ignorance.” Amen!!
June 23, 2020 at 9:45 pm
Thank you! I’m happy to hear you find moonlight so homey and protective.
June 23, 2020 at 4:09 pm
You really do have a wonderful way with words. I find it easy to visualise the world you paint with the words you weave together, and it is such a beautiful image. The last paragraph speaks to me in particular. It feels almost enigmatic, like foreshadowing almost, hearing about how this is a time for renewal, rejuvenation, and to borrow from your own poem, rehabilitation.
June 23, 2020 at 9:51 pm
I’m so pleased with your comments–thank you. I do think darkness and sleep can be renewing, making us ready (readier) for the (new) day. I don’t know the rate or quantity, but our cells are constantly replaced. I guess I’m thinking renewal of a deeper kind can and does also happen. Daily–well, nightly.
I hope you’re having a pleasant week, especially in this strange, sometimes foreboding time.