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Lux Aeterna

Poem 36/365

By Mary SyrristPublished 10 months ago • 1 min read
False Light

The darkest days have passed and moving forward, the glow over the horizon will stretch time by measured increments. Winter will not rush to satisfy our need for light. She will keep us in cool suspense, even as coming of day grows. There is yet space to cozy in a corner and cry, or sleep, or hunker, or hide. The linear growth of primal light will not mirror a soul’s fight or flight. As winter whimsically tiptoes into spring, there will yet be blood, beauty, peace, and suffering still to be had. From one year to the next, light does not mend our aches or woes; nor does feasting, noise, or merry making. But in the unseen corners of our souls, in the dimmest spaces, a choice grows. So Life asks, ‘what dear, is yours?’

First Draft

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Mary Syrrist

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    Written by Mary Syrrist