It swallows our sight, and spits out the shapes. No warmth rests here, there's nothing to gain. 


It flickers out in a switch, or from waiting out the day. But never on it's own accord. Or, at least, that's what they say.


I spoke to a swallow, the avian sort. He told me, "I must go, but I'll return when the hour hand ticks two tocks forth".


I sat by the windowsill as a blanket smuggled the sky. Though, I've heard nothing of his return, I must fear, what if he can't see where he flies?

I was filling the trough, when a sow said to me, "I go blind every night, not till the first light do I see!"

"No, no little sow", I replied cheerfully. "You aren't going blind, it's not what it seems! The light walks around the earth, then meets us on the other side-"

"Well then", said the silly sow, "I'll follow the light, afraid to be blind. I'll be back here by morning!"

And off she trotted, disappearing through the thicket of the trees.


Never did she return. Perhaps she's on a beach in Maui?


The Unknown, it takes, then returns if it wants. But travel too far, and you wouldn't find what you sought.


A sow, and a swallow, though few and far inbetween, have strayed from their haven to find nothing can be seen. It hides in every cave, and creeps up in any corner. To experience the emptiness, one need look no further than to pull down the curtains that shelter the eyes. Then, you'll see what secrets await when you arrive. 

As one might gather from my topic of choice, I continue to fear the dark, or more specifically, The Unknown, up into adulthood. The Unknown is known as what is not known, may that be a lack of empirical evidence, or unexplored circumstances. In this situation, I'll speak of "The Unknown", in reference to what cannot be seen - a lack of vision, or foresight. For example, I continue to float through social events avoiding a lonesome encounter with a passing shadow after nightfall in fear of what's attached. Often times I'd find myself running home from the bus stop at the sound of lingering silence. My own room, in contrast, a familiar and comfortable haven, is a much warmer setting. The darkness, however, is an unavoidable and untouchable outcome of living. We are part of the dark as much, or more, as we are with the light (hours spent eyes open verses closed; in the daylight verses in the moonlight). Electricity has become a sort of sanctuary from the inevitable, bringing the products of a hiding sun into a clearer view. Perhaps one day I'll see the unseen as a little less sinister. Though, I highly doubt it. What are your fears?

Gabby ChiaComment