Let us now enter deeply the whiteness of white;
Let us now leave behind the blackness of night.
The moon’s brightness shines less than white;
The sun’s light shines much whiter than bright.
The stars they do but twinkle all the night long;
The pale moon arises as it sings a lonely song.
The black darkness often bring feelings of fear;
The white lightness offers a vainglorious veneer.
We sense the whiteness of snowflakes sanctifies snow;
The dove’s whiteness perpetuates any peace we know.
The freshness of laundry shows the whiteness of clean;
The white rabbit wears a vest tied tight at the seam.
We never question the mystery that lies in darkness;
What is this thing we routinely call pure whiteness?
Darker shades of night? I would have found them.
Lighter shades of bright? I must have unwound them.
Ebony night travels through regions of outer space;
Steal its blackness and the night may lose its face.
The bone white moon behaves as if it were a ghost;
The harsh white sun behaves as if it were the host.
The ebony of darkness carves mystery into marble;
The whiteness of ivory inspires humanity to marvel.
Darkness steals light to create the mystery of night;
Lightness steals light to create the whiteness of white.
Ahhh . . . This is beautiful, John. My wine is a dark ruby read, and you can bet I have done my share of "partaking" of it for the last week. My computer crashed and burned last Sunday. Just got back online about ah hour ago.
I've heard people say that Eskimo discern about sixty hues of white -- that's the true mystery for me to see the white change of the white weather on the white ground when the sun does not rise over the horizon a solid half of year. Right, speaking of the white in its extreme, we cannot hold back 'the ebony of darkness.' A piece in its fullest expression. Cheers, alex
You ventured over into darkness, or black, quite often in this treatise to white. The two are really inseparable in our biology, since for most of us, half of our days are spent in sunlight and the other half without it. It is amazing how much emotion is tied up in the two extremes. With electric light, we have banished the dark in many localities. And turned dining today in the "city that never sleeps."
I think it's abominable when we use black-and-white to differentiate between people.
White is something we can aspire to. Seems everything in life is some shade of gray for humans. It's one of the reasons that I embrace writing (regularly) as a way of battling against the bewitchment of our intelligence by means of language.
Each person is but a grain of sand resting beside the sea. This thought sets the tone for Jill Eisnaugle’s latest poetry collection, Beside Still Waters.
I think it's abominable when we use black-and-white to differentiate between people.
Ron