What is your darkness?
An echo in an empty house
or a stairwell holding
it’s breath?

What brings you light? 
A candle glimmering
in a cracked window,
or a scurry of squirrels
quick with delight?  

Clarity comes without asking,
the surprise of stabbing
cactus spines,
or a sunrise unfolding
over the mountain.  

Do you drift between doorways,
fingering walls,
waiting for the hardwood
of the banister to ground you?  

Or do you get caught
in liminal spaces
and wander barefoot
until a hand
or the low watching
shape of a coyote finds you?