It Gets Dark So Early These Days

I remember
light
and power
when my children were born.
Cosmic glow unfurling from heaven into my waiting arms.
The umbilical cord pulsing with LIFE.
A connection to the unseen: vibrant, warm and miraculous.

We all come into the world in light, with light, AS light.

But somehow, it gets dark so early these days.
Mothers, shield their eyes.
Protect them from the dark. 
Turn off the news.
God knows they don't need to see it all in living color.

"I like your boobs." A casual comment on the playground. My daughter shrinks.
I soothe and I seethe.

Mothers, fan their flames. Blow on that spark until it becomes an inferno.

Fan that flame of excitement. Fan it until it won't be denied.

It gets dark so early these days.
2 little girls.
Darkness moving over them in the night.
A dimming. A darkening.
Innocence shattered. 
Darkness falls. 

3 kids.
Dozens of pills.
A pact.
Drizzling rain falling on coffins and fresh dirt.

Oh, sweet Jesus, it gets dark so early these days.

I look for the light. I crave it. 

Mothers, Fathers
Teach them to see the light.
Teach them to be the light. 
Teach them that they ARE the light.
Fan the flames.