New Poem

The Lightness Of the Dark

Atop a mimosa tree that never bloomed
in all my tenure here, a dozen vines
around its slender trunk leafed out so thick,
they brought it crashing down. One of the vines,
the wild grape muscadine with heavy leaves,
likewise had never bloomed and never borne.

I almost see them, had they bloomed and borne,
a torch of blossoms lighting up the sky,
festooned with chandeliers of musky fruit.
It is my heart that sees them, not my eyes,
and wishes that the eyes could be so blessed.
The heart has vision that defeats the dark
of nothingness, and puts nonbeing to flight.
The dark is but a shadow of the light.

By JRC 6/20/12