It is early, before curtains open, kettles boil and dreams let go of our souls. The world is quiet.
And I’m running in the dark, as I do in the winter, when the sun withdraws and nature rests.
There’s no light in the sky. But while they say it is darkest before the dawn, I can see everything.
Night vision finds me, this secret gift, given afresh each day, making darkness and light all the same.
The leafless trees stand in clear silhouette; the lie of the land both seen and felt.
All is quite clear as I make my way and it always surprises.
Looking out from my well-lit kitchen, I’d have declared it dark.
But now as I run, we must find a better word, for I find nothing is hidden and everything is known as I move.
In fact, only the light makes me blind today and who would imagine that?
‘Light reveals,’ they say.
But today, only light makes me blind: the harsh torch light of a walker in my face or the glaring headlights of a car.
The bright and insensitive beams wound my seeing; they extinguish sight and leave me stuck, unsure and stumbling…I can’t see anything.
The dark is light enough; let this be known to all who live it.
The dark is light enough; needing no bright solution.
In trust, the dark holds all the light we cannot see.