Through a Glass Darkly

1 Corinthians 13:12

my hand groping for my glasses
when I wake in the night, my eyes
reaching through the dark
that is close around me, closing

my reflection as I stand
barefoot before the mirror
my bedroom empty of light
and I dissolving in my nightgown
nothing but a shadow blooming

then out of the gloom
a glimmer: my dark eyes peering
trying to find the edges
of myself, searching for
something more certain

*
how we see
or think we see, ourselves
things outside of and within us
things that are bigger than we are

for now, this waiting for my eyes
to adjust to the dark
and later to the light:
when morning comes
I'll push aside the curtains
and be blinded

how we know
to wait for the light to return
so we can see more clearly who we are
and what makes light
and what it is we're made of

*

my hand now scribbling these lines
in the dark, birthing a poem
I cannot see myself
 
bringing forth the words
from black of wet womb
into the blanketed grey
pushing it out

this slippery living thing
trusting your hands
will be there to catch it

--Emily Ruth Hazel

More of Emily's work can be found in Body & Soul: Poems by Emily Ruth Hazel (Finishing Line Press). Email maria@redeemer.com for information on how to order. Emily also appears in the second edition of RedeemerWrites, and she will read at the IAF Summer Showcase.