The Great Opposites


By Esther Hartman

and sometimes, sometimes,

the shadow is married to the light
in a grand ceremony of temple curtains torn in two,
and the welding of spark to suffering, of hideous to holy,
and light keeps replacing bulbs in all dark’s hiding places
hoping he’ll finally see himself

and the great rivals called death and life
find each other ravaged in the trenches, in the aftermath,
and take up a song of lament together
for the wounds they know will open again
and the bodies yet to burn

and good calls to evil over the sounds of the city
that there might be an end to this stalemate;
and for the millionth time a treaty is drafted, and scrapped,
for the balance is just a little too tipped
towards redemption, towards damnation

and joy and sorrow share a midnight meal,
drinking from the same cup the potter’s oven scorched,
playing the same lute the knife once hollowed,
and they commiserate until the morning
where they’re sworn contradictions again

and sometimes, sometimes
it’s not as simple as it’s cracked up to be,
and the black hearts and whitewashed walls befriend each other,
and all is wrong, but right is waiting in the wings,
and the falling is a part of the eventual springing,
and our captor is the one telling us
that there is in fact
a Deliverer


You can read more of Esther’s writing at her site, You Will Most Surely Find.

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