I Turned it Off

“Lamp in My Closet” Addendum

I did, I turned the light off. 

First an exhale, then a panic, then I went to bed.

The next morning, I turned it on again.

It is a deep repentance, though, I think.

I didn’t make it this far by knowing how to rest.

Can I sit in this rocking chair in the dark, and ponder, 

What does it mean, this symbolic act? 

A weary collapse? An angry-hearted, “FINE, I’m done!” 

Or an acceptance unto Life? 

Am I giving up? And giving up what? 

Does it mean the lamp is off for good? 

What kind of difference has it made?

What things are unseen, when it’s not lit? 

In the morning, am I allowed 

To turn it back on again? 

Does it stay off for 8 hours, or a whole day? 

Or a year, or the rest of my lifetime? 

You say, even the darkness is light to You

I want to know it to the calming of my very breath.

To the slowing of my racing heart, 

To the welcome of a peaceful slumber. 

Teach me the way of love that releases

That aches, and grieves, then dries her tears,

Then opens her hands, and walks away with deep Knowing,

And can truly, wholly, let go.

Teach me to look to the One Light with steady trust, 

To the keeper of minutes and days and years,

The keeper of all stories, their beginnings with naive hope, 

Their mid-way perils, and their endings yet unknown.