PHOTOCLARK

Darkness

The beauty of your darkness is polluted in light.

What is darkness? As a child so many other kids and people were scared of the physical aspect of the dark. Not knowing what was around you; blind to the elements. I loved and still love the dark. In its embrace I am me. No one can see me or what I do. There is no judgement in the dark. The darkness is also naturally peaceful and quiet (at least in the country side).

Growing up a preacher’s kid, I was exposed to the idea of another darkness: that which is opposite the light of Christianity. I try not to discuss religion, politics, guns or sex as a rule, because in the wrong conversations it creates a lot of animosity. I am one who has his beliefs and allows others to have theirs. I truly try to have no judgement on anyone’s decisions on belief and life.

That said, I do think there are other levels of darkness.

Evil darkness SHOULD BE polluted by light. There are people who exist only to cause heartache and physical pain to others. They live in a different kind of darkness of which I want no part.

The American Dictionary only defines darkness either as the absence of light (night) or evil/wickedness.

But I also think darkness is a place in which happy, good folk can reside. How do I put this to words? For some, their religion/belief revolves around the dark. Not the evil dark, but the night and all that involves. And, in that sense, there is beauty. There is beauty in the person, and the environment.

Outside at night I see so much. There is light in the moon and stars. But, artificial light pollutes this. In the same way, I believe those that live in their own peaceful dark can be polluted by artificial light as well. And those that live in the light can be polluted by dark. Is that convoluted enough?

I love both the dark and the light. I love the people in both.

So let not the beauty of your darkness be polluted by the light.

This poem I wrote just thinking about the topic of darkness. Read it for what it’s worth. For the record, I love my father very much. I will miss him when his time comes. But, when I was a kid, I felt he was very different than he is today. He wasn’t abusive by any means, but I did receive a few whippings that left whelps and marks. I did deserve some of them. Lol. Looking back, I can now see the effects of being stationed in a war zone. No matter if you are in direct line of fire or in the threat of it, it can effect you.

War Zone

I never knew why; you were so mean

You never saw combat as others had seen

But in the zone it spooked you as well

You brought it back, your personal hell

Little things, would set you off

My face with your hand, you would cuff

From the war zone of man, to the war zone of Christ

I feel like your kids were sacrificed

I do not hate you, nor do I hate God

But your discipline ways, bruised my bod

I think that is why, at seventeen

I knew there was more, to be seen

I headed to college, to get away

There was so much, with which to play

I think that is when, I finally did know

That my own life, I had to grow

A preacher you’ve been, for many a year

And no more, do you I fear

I love ya pop and wish you the best

I just had to write this; get it off my chest

Shared and Posted for the Midweek Motif ~ Darkness is … @ Poets United