There are times

I.

There are times when shadow
opaques obscures overtakes the light
reaches up like ocean spray
splashes the colors of day
with gloom, uncertainty, doubt,
with all that was sent into the shade.
Vortex of life and death
darkness swirls spewing birds into flight
in such numbers they cast their forms
across the sky and cast a stain
upon all that is bright, every glint.
Even so, as seekers of the sun, we still find glimmers
in the interstitial silhouettes and wonder
"What is the nature of darkness?
Of light? And what is this dance?"


II.

I untangle my wings,
pull them free from the web
that holds them inside down
inside and down across my chest and shoulders.
My wings, I extend them to the fullest
and discover how to assume the darkness,
become the black and fly.
And now I have become the black sky
and as the sky robed in black I fly
powerful as a raven of night might fly,
my wing tips touching the dawn.
And with the break of day,
I will simply walk open walk
walk and open
open my eyes
and receive this play
                                 of light
                                            and shadow
                                                           light
                                                                shadow
                                                                          light.