Light in the Darkness

"And God said, "Let there be light."

“God said, ‘Let there be light;’

and I was born.”

 

I have said this for years,

not really thinking much about it,

certainly not thinking of myself as a light,

but saying it because

a sense of humor

has gotten me through some of the

toughest times in life.

Fake it until you make it.

 

When love becomes hate

and a mother becomes a monster

and a father burns the bridge too far,

collapsing under the weight of infidelity,

light naturally slips through the cracks,

at least that’s what Rumi says.

 

The family tree was burned and scarred,

branches scattered here and there

with no clasping in between.

Truth was choked out and hidden

behind walls of obfuscation

like ivy consuming an abandoned home.

 

Flowers grew through cracked pavement

reaching for the light,

often trampled under the weight

of heavy souls without direction

but soles steadily moving,

looking to hide behind

the jagged edges

of a mirror without reflection.

 

But I really was that light

in the darkness.

 

My mother used to be a light,

snuffed out by hands of abuse.

She never learned to shine again.

 

A son was born

and given away,

a whisper ~ ~ ~

Michael Christopher.

 

A second spark was lit -

vanquished,

stilled,

quiet -

a miscarriage,

a curse or a blessing.

You decide.

 

My father used to be a light,

vanquished by parents lost too soon

and a feeling of being unloved.

He never learned to shine again,

a rebel.

 

Both of them found each other

in the darkness

hoping for the light,

but neither stood a chance.

 

And I was born.

 

My sister was born.

 

My mother fell into the arms

of my father’s best friend.

They both fell into a bed of contrition,

and my father witnessed the fall

of ashes around him,

the ruin of his marriage.

Everything burned to the ground.

 

At twenty-three, he left,

immersed himself with night,

drove himself into the oblivion

of a tall tree,

the impact

snapping his neck.

 

My mother continued to lay

in the bed she had made.

 

A third daughter was born.

 

With each new soul,

the light seeped through.

The darkness hovered round.

 

I can’t speak for the other two,

but the darkness almost drowned me out.

 

I was a portal to promise,

light shining through the keyhole

of a dark door slammed shut

against the sight of a brighter tomorrow.

 

I shined,

determined to turn away from the dark.

 

I shine,

despite the cracks and flaws.

 

One day,

my light will burst through the cracks

completely.

 

My wings will press downward

and backward,

and I will soar higher and higher

until I burst through

the clouds

into the bright light of heaven

from which I came,

from which I return.

 

“God said, ‘Let there be light,’

and I was born.”

Author's Note

Reviews

[Chrissie Muldoon]

Holy sh*t. Wow.

... I mean.... just wow.

I don't know if this is a fiction or a personal testimony (I don't need to know either way), but it really is such a glorious tale of suffering and familial trauma, yet trying to be more than what that trauma dictates.
I do find an immense beauty in people being truthful and vulnerable in their suffering, but also doing their best to be the final link in the chain of brokenness. From where I stand, it isnt the well packaged, 'sunshine and cornflakes' hope that is often given to us by Hollywood and well-being influencers... it's real, vulnerable, human endeavor to strive, fail, try harder, fail harder, but getting up every damn time because you know that you will not be defined by this, you will not be beaten.
As the singer Bruce Coburn says, 'kick at the darkness till it bleeds daylight...'

Honestly, this is just fantastic. Thank you so much for gifting this to the world xo

[John the Baptist]

The deluge of misfortune the speaker describes makes one wonder how any light at all survived. The last four verses testify that it did, though, and will continue. What appears to be a pit can often become a ladder with patience and determination.

[Patricia Wedel]

dearest Linda Marie... a Portrait well painted. In our golden years, we share reflections... even to people passing by. I think of a Steeple with a Chime that whispers through the clouds. Poets paint feelings and share healings.... lost in the Art of words. I bid you Adieu.... my friend... Peace and Love... softly, Pat

[Ken Simm.]

Yes you are a light despite all the above or can I say because of all the above. Beautiful.
Just to repeat myself.

[AYVID N]

We have such deep reasons for being what we are and the reasons are our families. They shape us and our destinies and there echoes never stop ringing within us. A beautiful poem with such an apt title.

[Betty Hermelee]

Very somber music indeed that fits this poem to a tee…..such tragic circumstances surround….such honesty appears, such darkness falls, but some light between the cracks…. I can relate a bit to this horrible situation as I represent neglected and abused children in court whose parents are homeless, drug addicts, etc…. At the moment I have seven kids all under 15 who are separated in foster homes and mother and father live in a tent ….. in your very poignant poem, there is some light through all the sorrow…. And you can reach for that light and do reach…so there is some hope for you…. I read this three times and almost cried….. it is beautiful even through the cracks……warmly, B

[Arundass TP]

Beautiful way you expressed. Really excellent.

[William Michael Reeves]

Wow! That was powerful. Maybe in the write you become the light. Shedding the dark memories by sharing them in our light. A child may have to know darkness to find the light. I hope you shine on, despite living in your parent's plight.