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
