don’t be afraid of the dark

it’s my desire that the membrane of
featureless dark slumbering between you
and a living, breathing world will
never scare you, not from letting go
and dreaming.

i want you to be as untroubled as a feline shadow
stretching back like the vivid light in your young eyes
for you to know that nothing creeps
not in the crawling wisps of bedtime silence,
nor the neutered intentions
left inside the house spiders poisoned heart;
nothing waits there in the resting dark
nothing but folded up dust so neatly cached in
quiet relics long, small memories flung upon
the raw grass of ageless play
where moon meets sun, and sun meets moon
in endless day

think of the mythic wild,
aching for a secret of your river words
tree limbs undressed in winter
waiting for the untamed howl
of the green man’s oily summer yawn
the salt of the sea widowed on your cupid’s bow
a chorus of humming live creatures in the stars
and serenading you with indiscernible hymns
only a child can know and hear;
show me how to listen again.

look not in the cold dark where you cannot see
and think of lonely things which might hang
in the hard corners of your nearing sleep.
shut your eyes. let life rest.
think of the day and how in the dark
there is nothing that was not in the light.
and if there is
let it be afraid of  y o u.


words = samantha lucero 2017 ©
image = wish i knew.