The Light at First


The light, at first,
is not brilliance
nor even light,
but lessening
of the darkness.

And maybe this
was God before
opening day,
his hazy face
awoke from sleep,

the dilated
eye of the womb.

And maybe this
was the first steps

of my someday
soon to be wife
round the marble
wall of a cold
and crowded room,

a lessening
of the darkness,
at first a blush,
cause of the curve
of atmosphere,

a purple-blue.



A day is not done, until it's filled with words.

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