Deep Morning Blackness

I awaken in blackness.
I slip my glasses
On my nose
And discern the shades
Of blackness around me.
Black of midnight blue blackness.
Light through the blackness
Blackness, black as pitch.
Still blackness.

My heart is thumping
In its casket
Pumping the flow of my blood
Pounding through my temples
Like brother Clarence beating against
The walls of his butt of malmsey.

Like Clarence,
I am praying feverishly
Praying like a Jesuit
Repeating my prayers
To the darkness surrounding me,
Over and over,
Repetition after repetition,
Calling for my deliverance
For a path toward delivery
Through the tasks which face me.
Calling to the blackness.

And it is Monday, Black Monday
And I am throwing my stick
At the darkness around me.

But morning light will break the darkness,
Separate the night from the day.
Only the sweet, honey fragrance
Of the allysum planted in its pot
Sitting on the sill
In the kitchen, hearth and home,
At break of morning light
Will revive my timorous soul
And give me that comfort
That life and new promise awaits me.

Sweet Friday release.