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That Stubborn Superhero<\/p>\n
By<\/p>\n
Jennifer Angelina Petro<\/p>\n
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Out in nature, which is<\/p>\n
To say, in us\u2014it happens<\/p>\n
This way:<\/p>\n
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The longest night comes<\/p>\n
Filling what little day there is left<\/p>\n
With thinly veiled darkness,<\/p>\n
That, veil after veil, begins<\/p>\n
To cover the day, like<\/p>\n
A shawl thrown in slow motion<\/p>\n
Over a lamp.<\/p>\n
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After the night has had its run,<\/p>\n
It slowly\u2014you\u2019d better believe it\u2014<\/p>\n
Shrinks back to a more manageable size,<\/p>\n
It contracts as the day exhales,<\/p>\n
And with each exhalation, spring,<\/p>\n
Moment by seemingly imperceptible<\/p>\n
Moment\u2014swells with such joy<\/p>\n
It can barely contain itself.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
And the light begins to coax the darkness<\/p>\n
Into slipping away into time and to allow<\/p>\n
Itself to grow its slow, wild warmth.<\/p>\n
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We have all gone through darknesses<\/p>\n
That seemed to last forever\u2014<\/p>\n
At least\u2014I have\u2014when I couldn\u2019t<\/p>\n
Believe any light would ever come<\/p>\n
Ever, ever, again, and that the abyss<\/p>\n
Of not being able to see or hardly move<\/p>\n
Would enshroud me forever.<\/p>\n
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If this has ever happened to you,<\/p>\n
Or maybe is happening to you<\/p>\n
Right now\u2014believe it\u2014spring always<\/p>\n
Comes\u2014little by hardly noticeable little<\/p>\n
Darkness becomes less and less<\/p>\n
And seeds of exhaultation can\u2019t wait<\/p>\n
To burst into flowers and tangible light.<\/p>\n
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I am not saying all darkness is bad.<\/p>\n
There is a holy darkness, touched<\/p>\n
With water and earth, where fireflies<\/p>\n
Bedazzle the night, where love-making<\/p>\n
Eases us into the sweetest sleep.<\/p>\n
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I am talking about the darkness<\/p>\n
That swallows the will and chews it<\/p>\n
Practically into nothing.<\/p>\n
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Just as too much light burns,<\/p>\n
Too much darkness freezes the soul.<\/p>\n
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So, take my word for it\u2014as someone<\/p>\n
Who has been there and is taken there<\/p>\n
Against my will every year\u2014the swallowing darkness<\/p>\n
Turns and slips away like a receding flood of black ink<\/p>\n
Eventually, leaving gardens of survival,<\/p>\n
Fragrant with honeysuckle,<\/p>\n
And damp with laughter.<\/p>\n
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You\u2019d better believe it,<\/p>\n
Or if, like me, sometimes<\/p>\n
That is impossible to do–<\/p>\n
Pretend to believe it\u2014or even if<\/p>\n
That is too hard to do\u2014don\u2019t then–<\/p>\n
Because its true regardless:<\/p>\n
Never once has the night held captive<\/p>\n
The day forever.\u00a0 Day, that stubborn superhero,<\/p>\n
Will break free of night\u2019s weakening grasp,<\/p>\n
And soar, ringing through the fields,<\/p>\n
Leaving visible hope spreading<\/p>\n
Over all the land.<\/p>\n
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