there are rocks — a great profusion of them — careering across the Earth’s atmosphere at high velocity, burning and crumbling, and releasing light and heat and ash. i figure it can’t hurt to take a nice long walk through the neighborhood. why not? sadly, there is far too much light-pollution for me to see anything up there, but I can imagine the scene. and while I’m walking, I’m talking to myself, and thinking, and smoking a cigar.
in the relative dark of a south-west Brooklyn night, there is not much to do or see. one is left at the mercy of one’s own thoughts. there are few external distractions. been spending my nights, of late, up to the no-goodery of being out. drinking spirits. debating existence. sometimes I’m working. sometimes: I’m waiting. waiting on dawn.
it seems to me that we’ve left the nighttime behind. it is the house and hold of forgotten things and forgotten people. plenty of stray cats, piled garbage bags, and the occasional smoker out on their stoop staring sightlessly into the murk from which I come and go. we forget all proximity and urgency. we have pushed out the night with light and noise and sleep. even when we revel in it, we do not observe it. for us, it is daylight that holds all significance. in the daylight we live and love and struggle all out in the open. and we are afraid to pass the night not distracted or comforted by some artifice of being here.
i guess I just want to say that I think the dark matters too. people treasure their “beautiful days” but waste their nights on poison and diversion. they do not consider it. they do not give it it’s due weightiness. but if you are wise, you will take a second to consider turn off your lights and your television and consider the darkness all around you. its like water.
we call light by names that describe its intrusiveness: rays and beams and shafts. but do we respect that darkness is the medium. without it light is nothing. but in darkness light not only strikes and radiates and penetrates: it swims. it floats. it blossoms. it traverses. darkness is what light rests on, it is distance and immediacy. and you walk through and consider all that, you will know the right of it.
the sun always rises, and birds sing, and we wake from insensation and wonder — and try to put together who we are and where we will go. and we wake up back where we started, sometimes.
i’m just saying, the dark also matters.