Penn State York

Comfort in the Absence of Light by Sascha Frost

Darkness, how you creep upon me
Like ice crystals upon a moist window
In wintry air, focusing cool hands on
One central point, making me whole.

Oh darkness, how you surface at the blink
Of an eye, as a faithful puppy awaits
The turn of a knob, an ephemeral escape
From life’s confounded color scheme.

Darkness, how you rush the day,
A tidal wave washing away the routine,
Transforming the world into a sea of
Light islands, bound by night.
Oh darkness, how you fossilize the luminescent
Echo of sunset. How you embrace me when the undying
Star turns its back on cities and towns. How you
Descend, filling empty space between shadows.

Darkness, how you envelop me in my
Abstract plain, the canvas where imagination
Commandeers the laws of gravity on a
Night when air tastes stale as ash.

Oh darkness, how you draw the ocular blinds
Over my windows to complication and
Pain. How you deflect searing sunbeams, set upon
Stabbing unwanted elation into my head.
Darkness, how you shield me
In the night, like an amorphous cloak
In a cast of light, concealing
My actions, pressing me into sleep.

And darkness, how you shine on the night,
Flooding every alley, every place which
daylight tires of shining for. How you silently
Slither down closed corridors of places once swarming
With aimless wanderers. Oh darkness, no matter
How blinding the daylight, I can always find
Your beauty lying in wait.
Darkness, you light the way to freedom.