2014-08-16 21.27.22

Here. Now.

I unfurl the rich velvet

solace of the night sky,

the canticle of the inky sea,

 

that blackness which is

all colors put together,

outside the firelight

when day is unwound.

 

These words are said to be the opposites of dark in the English language:

Bright

Cheerful

Clean

Clear

Distinct

Good

Happy

Intelligent

Light

Luminous

Sunny

Vivacious

 

When people whose skin color

has been held against them

for hundreds of years

refuse to act in ways

that are bright

and sunny

and cheerful,

because they have seen

far too much death,

 

America proves

we are still so

afraid of the dark.

 

On the longest night,

I lift the weight

with which my

European ancestors

have saddled

the dark.

 

I will stop

using

the dark

to say

negative,

threatening,

grim

depressing.

 

I will no longer

use black

to describe

a foul mood.

 

If someone is ignorant,

I will not say

he is in

the dark.

 

The forces of evil

might just be

forces of lightness,

an interrogation bulb,

searing perfectionism,

unrelenting cheer,

the pressure to be ever clean,

our inability to stop

to weep

to sleep.

 

I still welcome the birth of the sun,

the miracle of the oil,

the child wildborn

beneath a single guiding star.

 

But hail to the gifts

of the dark,

nightkisses,

still dreams singing without sound,

the stellar cloak

that covers me

through the winter.

 

12/19/14

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