How old was I
when I first discovered
this thing I was doing was living, and
it would have an end?
When did I come to know
that what I saw
far away and in everything
was the dark spot
in the world's light?
My grandfather's funeral was in 1969.
I was 7 years old.
Nothing ended prior to that.
Everything was pure light, eternal, alive
... until then.
But the sun, once so flawless,
had a hole in it,
a dark spot right there
in the very middle.
It became visible for me in 1969.
Funny thing is, now in every
blanched-yellow, dusky-red sunset
that tips the balance between
summer and fall, between beginnings and endings,
between living and dying,
I see it again.
The same soft light shaded
with a spot of dark death.
That dark spot.
That opposite of life.
Refuses to relent.
It only grow closer with every ochre-sunset I see.
The last lesson
my grandfather taught me was to see,
the unavoidable dark spots in life.
' It began in mystery, and it will end in mystery, but what a savage and beautiful country lies in between. ' - Diane Ackerman
Loved the poem, Smoky. At first I thought you were going to talk about the dark spots on my hands...
An unfortunate fact is that dark spot. All the more reason to enjoy every second of light. Marvelous poem, Smoky
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Smoky-one never feels old til they lose their dad and they ever feel young again.Those dark spots are more noticed from then on.This poem probes the essence of our being Death is the final escape and then what