Last week, your writing prompt was LIGHT. So I thought it fitting to go for the opposite this week: DARK. The word has so many meanings – a dark sky or night, for instance. Or what about darkness in someone’s soul? It also symbolises death, despair and deceit. We can also think about it in terms of magic and mystery. But it can have positive connotations, allowing one to access the deepest parts of their subconscious mind to inspire change or it can be a catalyst to move forward in terms of enlightenment. The word dark holds different meaning to people from different cultures.
What does DARK mean to you?
I always enjoy seeing what you come up with if the prompt gives you inspiration, but there’s no obligation to share your writing. Here is the work you shared on the last prompt LIGHT.
The light of the Lord is in my soul,
My cup runneth over to fill my bowl
I worry no more
I know what’s in store
What will be will be, that’s how I now roll!
“Hey Mac. You gotta a light?”
“For that cigarette?”
“No to show me the way. Yes, for the cigarette.”
“Not helping with your suicide. Let me pass.”
“We are all dying anyway.”
“No need to hurry it up.”
“You a doctor?”
“No.”
“Do gooder then?”
“Nope. Just someone who used to smoke.”
“Gave it up, huh?”
“No. Smoked until my last breath.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Want to see me fade.”
The single flame lights the way,
Our loved ones are never far,
Memories remain in our hearts,
Visible as the brightest star.
Special days, or just because,
A candle is lit for each,
Distance is irrelevant,
Love is always within reach.
Chasing Sunlight
Through emerald fields where shadows play,
I chase the sun with eager strides,
Beyond the hills, where gleams of day
Eclipse the night, as darkness hides.
The golden beams, they dance and sway,
In whispers soft, they call my name,
To follow paths where dreams delay,
And hearts ignite with fervent flame.
Across the sky, where colors blend,
From dawn to dusk, they paint the air,
As daylight’s kiss begins to mend
The fractured hopes that linger there.
In endless chase, I find my peace,
For every ray holds tales untold,
With each new dawn, a sweet release,
In sunlight’s grasp, my heart unfolds.
Through valleys deep and mountains high,
I seek the light that guides my way,
With heaven’s glow, my soul will fly,
In pursuit of the sun’s embrace each day.
And as the twilight starts to fade,
I’ll hold the warmth within my chest,
For chasing sunlight, unafraid,
Is where my spirit finds its rest.
light is life
lift is bright
such a sight
its both day and night!
I used to be an optimist always seeing the sunny side.
No matter how dark things appeared to be, I could manage to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
But these days, the United States is in a very dark place and I don’t feel confident that there is a light at the end of the tunnel.
In fact, it feels like the tunnel has been destroyed and whatever light there might have been on the other side, is now out of reach or has been extinguished.
Leaving me bewildered and feeling hopeless.
I’m so sorry.
Light’s Out
The last light has faded
I have as well
What will happen tomorrow
No one can tell
Each new beginning once had a past
We always keep moving, nothing can last
Take your rest
Try your best
I pray tonight
You are blessed.
Stick in Time
The late afternoon sun spills through the windshield, casting a warm glow over the dashboard as the car moves forward. Your hands on the steering wheel, but your gaze drifts to me in the passenger seat. Your laughter slices through the tension like a knife, and for a moment, I forget the horns blaring outside.
“Can you believe this?” I whisper, frustrated. But your smile is a balm, soothing the chaos of the world outside.
“What’s the rush?” you reply, leaning back, eyes sparkling in the golden light. “We’ve got time.”
You glance at the rearview mirror. Cars piled behind us, a mess of impatient riders and drivers. But I can’t care less. I should be annoyed, but how can I be when your presence makes the mundane feel extraordinary?
“Honestly, I could sit here forever,” I think. Each moment in this cocoon of steel feels like an eternity wrapped in silk. The world can wait; this fleeting moment is ours.
The car jolts slightly, the engine sputtering back to life as we move another few feet. I can feel the tension building again, the impatience creeping back in. But then you turn to me, your eyes catching the late afternoon light, and it’s as if time stands still.
“Let’s play a game,” you say, breaking the silence. “What’s your dream vacation?”
I smile, the traffic forgotten. “Anywhere with you,” I say, and it’s true. I don’t need a destination; I just need this moment. The chaos outside pales against the serenity of your presence.
As we sit, the sun begins its descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The world feels irrelevant. The cars may be stuck, but I’m free, lost in our bubble. Here, time stretches, and chaos transforms into a sweet stillness. I could stay like this forever, enveloped in our own little universe, where the only thing that matters is us.
“Is this gloom – what they call despair?
Where is the brightness – of when I’d no cares?
The light seems absent – a thing just beyond reach
Whom shall I turn to; who shall I beseech?”
There is one: the Light of the World manifested
He’s not all that distant, and He’s interested.
Opposing the things that darken your existence –
From shadow and strife – He offers assistance
“Do not surrender to the dark – and its privation
But, come into the Light” is His invitation
Light, a rainbow effect, but black? Darkness, hidden, lonely. Why do I want to sit hidden in the dark as the days sparkle around me? Is this my fate? I need to escape into light, but by the time my sad thoughts allow me it will probably be raining. We have been singing “this little light of mine” at choir recently. I need a glimmer of hope.
You loved the sunlight. Even when you were pale and skinny, you would take off your shirt and sit outside, the sunlight warming your skin. Especially after the endless gray, dark days of winter when we were cooped up inside. Then Spring started to tease us with a warm day here or there and blue skies with bright sunlight. You took advantage of those bright days of light. You said you “lived” for days like those
Sickness had a way of peeling back all the layers of what we believed was important. One by one, a layer would fall away. Working, holding grudges, complaining about stupid things, what the neighbors would think, falling and falling away. Revealing what was really important: love, hope, faith, kindness, togetherness, unity, strength and beauty.
So, on a beautiful day filled with light and warmth, we would try to revel in its perfection. We would sit outside until our skin was burning with the heat, then retreat into a shady spot. We would watch the red tailed hawks and gray herons fly overhead, and the sparrows, robins and cardinals flit around the yard. The lake would move with the breeze blowing over it, and sparkle with the reflected sunlight. Our tomato plants would fill the yard with their earthy scent, and the dog would be busy chasing squirrels into trees. And we would talk and talk. We always had things to talk about, you and I.
This spring I will sit outside and remember you. I will see you in my mind, the light spilling over your chest and hear you laugh at something funny I said. I will feel the peace we once shared in the yard of our home and I will miss you, but I will love you even more.
Painter’s Challenge
Anguish reflected
But not absorbed by water
Which also soaks up
Essence of trees and buildings
For serene contemplation
***
Natures pain entrapped
Within deep, inky waters
No amount of tears
Ruffling its exterior
Can change on-going flow
***
Many lives ended
Sinking into death’s embrace
Silent and secret
Water does not pass judgement
Gleaming countenance unchanged
***
Interplay of light
Old Man River stays focused
Moody sky tantrums
Painter tries to replicate
Scene perfected by nature
***
Black, white and silver
Shot through with green and auburn
Captures canal’s soul
Embalming in acrylic
Turbulent natural conflict
***
Anguish reflected
Within deep, inky waters
Silent and secret
Painter tries to replicate
Turbulent natural conflict
***
Esther Chilton 
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