The Light As It Grows Dark

The light as it grows dark holds all the verve
That you were ever thrilled or dazzled by,
But holds it folded thick, stacked in reserve.
More for your memory than for your eye
It brings back pictures that your every nerve
Once revelled in while scarcely caring why.

You care now. Time has come, and there will be
No light at all soon, so look hard at this:
Behold the concentrated panoply 
Just here in this small garden’s emphasis
On colour drained of visibility.
In daylight, such wealth might be what you miss.

The flowers are growing dark, but they will live,
And so will you, at least a little while.
Good reason you should do your best to give
All your attention now. It’s not your style,
I’m well aware, to be contemplative:
The thought of chasing shadows makes you smile.

And yet I swear to you each figment had
Full meaning once. The images are here
That made your day when you would run half-mad
For too much good luck. Now they reappear
So fragmentarily you find it sad.
But really it’s all there, so have no fear:

The light as it grows dark has come for you
To comfort you. It is the sweet embrace
Of what your history was bound to do:
Close in, and in due time to take your place.
You can’t believe it, but it’s nothing new:
Your life has turned to look you in the face.

— Standpoint, October 2011