“The Midnight Sun”

—in loving memory of Fran—

An observing eye. An unobserving eye.

A boy, lonely and afraid.

His horizons set early; his whole life is winter.

A damp bleakness consumes his days, his nights,

And in the cold he desires warmth.



To see in the dark he must learn to fix his attention:

Pure Concentration—

Beyond the limits of individual power.

Where is She? Where did She go?

Something erupts within him.

A black void. A raging typhoon. Death. 

The Sun.

Luminous, Diaphanous, Brilliant, Featureless,

Containing entire worlds within Itself, substantiating

Endless Particles of the Sun; endless Particles within that Sun.

And then, with the arising of Thought 

A Particle flares out, like a lightning bolt, striking terror into the eyes. 

“The abyss stares back.” 

And yet the boy cannot return that loving gaze;

The very warmth of it is a searing pain.

Afterglow.

And then, after an initial confusion, dawns the Knowledge:

There was no abyss.

There was no second observer.

There was no Sun.

But there is a very happy boy.