Treasures of darkness

In faith I do not love thee with mine eyes, For they in thee a thousand errors note; But ’tis…


July 29, 2011

In faith I do not love thee with mine eyes,
For they in thee a thousand errors note;
But ’tis my heart that loves what they despise,

Dawn comes swiftly and you wonder if somewhere in this world there is anyone who dreads this day as much as you. Probably not. Who wouldn’t be glad to see another day? To see another day…

You shut your eyes a little tighter against Dawn. The smell of a new day assails your nose. It would be impossible to shut your nostrils as well so you stop fighting and let the day begin.

You hear the knock on your door and you answer in affirmative to let them in. They scurry like rats trying to prepare you for what they have named the most important day of your life. They are wrong about it being the most important day. That description is reserved for the day you met him. Today, all you can feel is emptiness and nonchalance.

“Would you prefer pink or lilac eye shadow color” the grossly overpaid make-up artist your mother insisted upon asks. You can smell the stale mixture of perfume and sweat coming off her. You shrug and she turns to your mother for help. Together they decide what color will bring life to your eyes.

You shrug your way through it all. The wearing of the gown they say brings out figure; the pinning down of your hair or whatever the hairdresser thinks he is doing; the prayers; the giggling of your friends; the busybodyness of your mother…

You sit in the limo your father hired. It is just you and him in the back seat. You think about how he has always been there for you. You wonder how he can bear to give you up to another man. You wonder if he will miss you. You wonder if he can feel your doubt and fear. He has held onto your hand since you got into the car. He stops talking now and then to squeeze your hand reassuringly.

Your mind touches on everything and everyone apart from the man you are about to marry during the drive. Every time you try to steer your mind in his direction, all you see is darkness. Thick impenetrable darkness. Darkness so strong that you fear that if you explore it, it will consume you and you will never be able to find dawn in your heart again. You pray for illumination, lighting, brightening, anything to pierce through this darkness. Just so you might have a glimpse of why you are going along with any of this. Just so you might understand what has possessed you to want to tie your soul with this man.

The limo comes to a halt. Your father takes his hand in yours and asks if you are ready. You hear the expectation in his voice, and you nod in affirmative.

Yet every step that takes you closer to the church makes you want to run like a vampire confronted with a cross. Every step closer to the darkness that is your groom makes you hold on faster to the dawn you tried to run away from just a few hours ago.

The sky grumbles. You feel the worry of your bridal train as they whisper and sigh, pleading to the heavens to keep the rain clouds at bay. You can almost taste their anxiety as they hurry you into the cathedral.

The organist begins to play. The long walk down the aisle begins as the sky thunders. Your father takes your hand and leads you as he has done so many a time. You smile as he hums the words to the music. Suddenly the music stops. There are hisses and shouts of recriminations against “NEPA”. There are instructions to “Hurry and put on the generator”. You recognize the Reverend’s voice. He baptized you as a child. You hear your mother grumbling about the church maintenance people and how they are never prepared. She kisses you on the cheek and says “It is alright. the lights will be back on soon” You feel the swish of her lace wrapper as she walks hurriedly past. Your father’s hands tremble a little in yours. Parkinson’s or anxiety, you wonder. It is your turn to squeeze his hand. He squeezes back.

That’s when you hear your groom whisper and ask if you are alright. The darkness that has overwhelmed every image you have of him finally gives way. The lights of your soul come on and through the eyes of your heart you finally see him as he has always been, as he will always be; come rain, come sunshine, come dawn, come twilight, come sight, come blindness…

The other lights come back on as he obeys the Reverend and kisses the bride. You can tell from the ‘up NEPA’s and ‘praise God’s that accompany the oohing and aahing at your kiss. You can tell from the smell of the hastily blown out candles that provided illumination when the generator failed to provide electricity. The lights that do matter have come on long before now. The lights of your soul have guided you down the aisle and into his life. It is alright to shut your sightless eyes now.

Yes, you will never know what he looks like. Yes, you will bear him children and will never be able to tell whether they have your eyes or his. But what about the joy of never getting to see the ugly scars life will inflict on him or the serenity of never having to judge him by the world’s twisted standards of beauty?

Darkness does have its joys.

They are called the treasures of darkness, the hidden riches of secrets places…

Song of the day: The Fray – Look after you

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