Black Hours

Black hours
Don’t have to mean
A dark night for the soul
Or for
Another part of
Self

An exclusive mediation
That must go
Sadly
Matched exhaustion
With frustration
Due to
Existential form

For
Sometimes
When I was done
With day
And daytime matters

Care for mother
And
Father-negotiation

With
House and home such-like
And also work outside
Of these

I could claim some
Time
And I was tired
I had some time
I took some time
And I was
Tired

Yet so many things
Were sunlit
Surface things were quiet
So

I could
Own
An hour or so
To sit and think
Like Pooh
Beside the jar
Or like the Satchel cat
That sits and thinks or sometimes
Only sits

C L Couch


Photo by Marten Newhall on Unsplash 

The classic Dark Night of the Soul is a poem and also commentary by Saint John of the Cross.