The Dark Comes Quickly
©November 2nd, 2018
By Vijaya Sundaram
The dark comes quickly,
A spy hurrying down an alley
Hood drawn, willing himself into invisibility.
The dark comes quickly,
An assassin with undefined intent,
Bringing sadness, an unclear threat.
If Autumn comes with uncertain step,
Winter treads on her heels, a bully,
Bringing with him the threat of death.
But I malign Winter, for he,
Old and frosty though he might be,
Brings snow too, and there is magic there.
Life is full of light and song,
But it extracts strength,
And weaves dreams full of sweetness
When one should be practical.
Death has its sweetness, too, though.
The work of living exhausts me.
Spent trees drop leaves.
Plants give up the ghost.
Winter covers the land.
Only we toil on – for that’s all we know.
The dark comes on suddenly,
A shroud that settles on us.
I do not fear it, not anymore.
It is an old friend, now, this assassin.
I even welcome the sadness it brings.
Everything passes, even these rising
Waters, this feeling of being lost,
This vague fear of the uncertainty
Looming over all.
I should worry. I should mourn.
But everything passes, and
Strangely, this comforts me.
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