I am the Night. Or I
should say, “a Night”
Since every Night grows
Different from the next, just as the light
That opens sight holds
A different coloration every day.
I am the Night that Something happened once –
When Something happened –
And bear with me, I really want
To catch or trap and
Tame the words that could describe the change.
First there was Night: a primal Night, as when
The darkness covered
The face of the abyss, full darkness. Then
The Spirit hovered
Across its surfaces and time began.
And after time began, Night multiplied
And darkness varied
As Days and Nights were summoned to subside
Or rise. We carried
A different nature, every one of us.
I’ve known the dark of guiltiness and shame
That welcomes secrecy
Because it brings escape from daylight fame
Or infamy
That came into the world with human woe.
I’ve known the dark of illness when the mind
Grows clouded over,
And in between the real and dream the line
Will float and hover
The way a fever fluctuates or flame
May rise and fall with every draft, and gray
And black throw blankness
Over every thought, till night and day
Are just a blanket
Designation and unmeaningful.
I’ve known the dark of death, when eyelids close
And don’t reopen.
The weight of years bears down upon them so
They cannot cope and
Sleep becomes a silence more profound.
That is the dark of death, when earth falls down
On all the senses,
Not only sight, and heavily the ground
Enfolds pretences
And living claims to immortality.
I am the Night that saw the baby’s birth.
Nine months in sacred
Darkness growing like a seed in earth,
A simple, naked
Child came into the air of Night,
And all the universe beheld a light
That darkness never
Overcomes, from the deepest height
Before forever
Up to the highest depth of after-time.
O Holy Night! No
longer silent, speak
To every night the glories of the Lord!
O Holy Night! No
longer tyrant, seek
To serve the tiny, Heaven-spoken Word!
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