The sound of light

dark-room-light-through-window-hunched-man1Awakened to the sound of the light. It rang true through the night. It beckoned for me to follow. It granted me sight. Determined as I was, as always my right. But am I? Is it? What chance have I in this fight?


Light is the savior, yet darkness embraced me so long. It sheltered me and comforted me. It gave me its home. In silence and contemplation I felt not alone. In the dark I found my soul. In the dark I found my home. Yet now it’s time for me to go.


Why then Do I want to stay, why then does my body and mind turn away. From the light I wish to sway, yet tell me not this day. I am wrong, it is not my home. It is not the way. It is not the chance I yearned for. It is not the only way.


It is blinding. It burns. It has a way of taking and making turns. I will wait. Perhaps follow, perhaps stay. I will not go nor decide this very minute, perhaps neither this day nor the next. When it’s time I shall go, for now light, leave me alone.


16 responses to “The sound of light

  1. You have such a way with words, my friend. More often than not, you render me speechless, and speechless I yet again. I just hope this person doesn’t dwell in darkness for too long, for with light comes a new dawn.

  2. The dark gives us depth…no worries…I am sure you will have access to both as u continue onward. Nice piece. Love the title as well. I wish I could hear what the sun sounds like if that were possible.

      • I think so…take a walk outside…away from mankind…for 24 hours…and observe the evidence of light and dark…the shadows…the glistening…the sunset…the dark…and as you said…the lights within the dark.

  3. Nicely written but look at me waving and shouting….I am afraid of the dark so you will find me being all loud out here… the light…it will make you want to sing if you hang out too long…

    yea…I am smiling….

  4. “It is blinding. It burns.”
    Sometimes it’s this way for me.
    Very much so just now.

    Sometimes I can no longer find the words, my words, my voice; words I would say if I could, trapped in my throat; words lonely, for they exist alone, unheard even by me. Words that seem they really DON’T exist, because they sleep, in their own darkness.
    And then I find you have said them for me. They are yours, not mine, but I feel relieved all the same, and grateful you have shared them here for me to find.
    I don’t know how to find my voice; talk, or write, right now. But I will still be reading the words I can hear.

    • Pearl… How I feel the same as you in so many ways… though the words are here, they are our words my dear… Words come when they are needed. Some times they don’t come at all. You will find your voice… I promise you, for such a beautiful voice should not be silenced for too long…

      I have been silent for so long, there have been times when I thought that I forgot how to write… I thought I was a shell, empty of feeling and thought, no divine light to grace my mind… yet I held onto my journals and now here and again I come and write…This medium is my link to myself… Life is crazy and full of masks… this journal is my freedom… Perhaps one day it will make sense… but it is not this day… Peace to you my friend, peace in this crazy crazy world

  5. Pingback: A Split Soul: Darkness and Light | Bipolar Lessons

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