Chiaroscuro
The darkest corners harbour rays of light.
The soil that swallows splintered bone and blood
Feeds the fields of lilies, blazing white –
Their gaze lit up by beams above the mud.
The bleakest sweep of ebon cradles stars
That guide bewildered mice when barn owls glide.
A moon-kissed glimmer streams through prison bars –
A splash of gold where hope and spiders hide.
This enigmatic globe of spark and spite,
This sphere of tears and cheers, this orb of murk,
Is blessed with something beautiful and bright –
It lurks in shadows (melancholy’s perk)
For souls who seek the mercy and the might
Of sunshine in the grim abyss of night.
Susan Jarvis Bryant
