Dark Light

I.
Mom, tell me about the light.
A fever knock out. A boxing match,
left hook. His embrace felt in space,
the physical and the meta intertwined.
I did not stay, but warmth did.

Your light now collective. The sun absorbs,
and your body will rest in mantle,
melt back to Mother Earth.
Ease into this illusional separation.
Take His hand, child. I will be there some day.
II.
Molly, tell me about the dark.
It is worse than the tree shadows on our skin.
It is worse than the hospice door closing behind you. 

The strings cut between our bodies, mine
in tune with a heart slow.

These shadows come from a source.
Like the spots on my kitchen table,
my mother the narrator, us the tragedy.
Notice the dim light of the moon, because
it is there, even if you do not always notice.
Embrace the slivers, the halves, the wholes.
It will guide you to me, when your heart’s knees
collapse. Death glad to finally swallow you,
a warrior in your own right.
But Life is not done with you yet.
Keep going."

- DARK / LIGHT BY ANDREW M.