When you enter a darkened room
and see a pool of moonlight on the floor,
do you wait to turn the lights on
so you can step into the glow?
For brightness can scare away the paler shades.
Though it is good for seeing definitions clearly and
avoiding stray furniture, it is poor for
hearing and keeping the secret
that’s whispered through tender starlight
to waiting earth of snow.
When I say, “let there be light,”
smugly snapping on devices,
I cannot see beyond my own reflection
– blinded to that of the Divine.
© 2018 Christina Chase
Poem inspired by an Amazon “Alexa” moment,
written between Christmas 2017 and New Year’s Day.