It can be so strange to walk through the darkness
in a space a room a corridor which you know so well
in the light
you can find your way alright recalling from when the light illuminated still
the table there the chair the cabinet the bush the tree trunk
yet you find your hip bumping against a counter edge or your hand trailing a shadowed vine
your eyes catch what’s always been there with a new visibility
not so much seeing as in daylight but seeing with senses that cause you to capture
the edges turn bruised hips into blessings vine trailings into mysteries that answer the questions you didn’t realize your life asked of you