Birth

I learned in a class that I often dozed off in
that the darkness of space isn’t real ‘dark’ at all —
there is light all throughout that smooth inky blackness,
flailing around at the top speed of the universe,
waiting for something to give it a body,
a body to strike to give body to light.

This, more than the emptiness, fills me with fear —
the thing we call empty brims full of stark light,
and in this lightdarkness we swim for a time
our fragile dust bodies give birth to the bright.

How bright, how bright the darkness is,
and once we know we never should forget.