Darkness

Light, you come but in flashes;
And darkness, O great you are.
You show the value of light
And the rainbows. But for you,
Would there be consciousness
And would there be a conscience?
What makes the light makes you,
Woven from the black fibers of
Our hearts, its juvenile ignorance.
The animal wakes in your company
And hunts in his primal hunger.
In dreams do we see our dreams.
Of that which we could attain,
The heights which we can soar.
In your hold, we see the Gods.
We fly like the kite sans a bond.