Light without Shadow

By

Like a seed, we grow 

in darkness,

rooted to the womb,

soaking silently.


Not doing anything,

not becoming anything,

existing; present

in the warmth of this place.


But yet we tug open the curtains,

tell our children to play outside,

plug our ears to their protests,

crane their heads to the sun,


Tell them never to look away,

even when their eyes dry out,

even when the ground gives way,

even if their heart stops beating.


You tell them if they look long enough 

all the darkness in them 

will go away, 

all the sin they were born of. 


But there’s no light without shadow,

and it condenses, spherical,

lodged in their throat, 

choking them as you watch blindly.


~ written May 2025