Dark Morning

And the rain washes away all warmth and certainty, even as it removes the brick, molecule by molecule, from the walls of my house.

And the sky refuses to speak to the Sun, and the Sun turns its back on the moon.

And all who are lost embrace their lost-ness, and all who are not lost refuse to lead.

And one by one the bright lights of the firmament go out.

And the ancient streams run with dark water.

And the ocean floor is an underwater desert,

And the village square is under surveillance.

And yet i, to whom all this was entrusted,

i will shine through this dark morning and entrust my love to the fading stars from which it came. i will no more assail my neighbors and curse my tormentors, for my curses will stick in my throat, and my tormentors will only sharpen their implements more gleefully.

No, i am made for song, and my song is this: the dark morning gives way, and gives way again. i am made to carry love and light, and i will move, even through dark mornings, toward you and all that casts shadow upon you.

You will see me and think: he is a dreamer. i will see you and say: behold, the source of my dream. We were made for each other, and from each other, and our dark mornings all hold the promise of light.

May you hold that light close, and hold it high, in the year that is upon us.

--Mr. Gobley