I probably read some poetry every day.
And some days, I read a lot of poetry.

I find that poetry brings me comfort . . . even when (or maybe especially when) the world feels bleak and not terribly welcoming. Over the last few weeks, I have found myself turning to my favorite poets for comfort and for welcome and for respite.

Today, I bring you a poem from Maggie Smith (the poet, not the now-deceased Dame). You may be familiar with Maggie’s poem Good Bones, which went viral after the 2016 election. The poem I’m sharing today is a little bit, well . . . darker. A little bit less (immediately) hopeful. But also a good reminder that beginnings . . . are often dark.

How Dark the Beginning
Maggie Smith

All we ever talk of is light —
let there be light, there was light then,

good light — but what I consider
dawn is darker than all that.

So many hours between the day
receding and what we recognize

as morning, the sun cresting
like a wave that won’t break

over us — as if light were protective,
as if no hearts were flayed,

no bodies broken on a day
like today. In any film,

the sunrise tells us everything
will be all right. Danger wouldn’t

dare show up now, dragging
its shadow across the screen.

We talk so much of light, please
let me speak on behalf

of the good dark. Let us
talk more of how dark

the beginning of a day is.

Today’s poem comes from Maggie Smith’s collection Goldenrod: Poems, published in 2021 by One Signal Publishers. You can read more about Maggie Smith and her work here, on her website.

Be gentle with yourselves. And don’t be afraid of the good dark.

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You can find A Gathering of Poetry every month . . . on the third Thursday.
Share some.
Read some.
Gather up some poetry!

(Bonny is hosting a special link-up for A Gathering of Poetry. Be sure to check it out!)