27 October 2013

that dim glow {a poem}

Dark mornings
still have a glow to them
and I feel my way by the gleam of the moon,
by the pinpricks of Orion.
Those are tiny spotlights from heaven, I think,
aware of the vast silliness of this thought,
but the sky above me—
it is so broad, so deep, so limitless
that I am flattened under it,
a moving speck in the millennia of light:
Any thought at this moment runs the risk of smallness.

By the gleam of the moon,
I feel my way down the path,
leaves scattering beneath my feet.
Parting the darkness, stepping over the threshold between dream and reality,
I push ahead,
towards what I do not know,
but moving always
in that dim glow
that leads us before morning breaks.


  1. Beautiful poem, Kamiah

    Was this inspired by an early morning run?

    1. Thanks, Todd!

      It was indeed inspired by an early morning run. It's not as pitch black as people think it will be: this is what I keep telling others who are concerned about be running in the dark. That and that I run with a headlamp, which isn't poetic enough to mention in a poem like this.



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