The Other Light

In the darkest night in
the blackest room shrouded
with the heaviest drape,
I dream of the blazing Sun.

How can that be?

I can see the blackest black
behind eyes closed shut
in deep sleep when
even my body is gone.
I am not even there,
and I haven’t a name.

How can that be?

Is there a light un-seen
in which the others appear?
a light that is not light
and yet illumines everything?

Haven’t you noticed?
Surely you have,
you must sleep and wake
and dream just like me,
even in the darkest place,
in the middle of the night,
when the moon is veiled in
the shadow of the earth.

Aren’t we the same, you and I?
The children of this other light.
Could it be?
Can’t you see?

When next the shades draw near,
when Morpheus calls you to the deep,
take a look and see.  Who’s looking?