...You light the lamps...
...You light the lamps because
you are alone in your small house
And the wicks sputtering gold
Are like two visitors with good stories...
...But of course the darkness keeps
its appointment. Each evening,
An inscrutable presence, it has the final word
Outside every door.
What story does darkness say? Are there not good stories within the enveloping reaches that connect us to all others - the stories of light, shadow, and black night? In the day light, we might imagine ourselves as separate, capable to go it alone, ego driven to get the day's chores done. But when the power of night comes with the threat of foxes that pull birds out of trees, we see that we need each other to affirm that the sun will rise once again. When the dark comes, we listen to stories of light and life. So that in the next day, we can bear the stories of dark and death.
What are nights like for you?