Upon the darkling plain
How poignant it must look from above –
a tableau of tragic beauty as billions stir
upon the darkling plain we consider lit,
tricked by the dim lanterns we hold aloft,
their small, illumined circumferences.
Ah, the furtiveness afforded us by the half-light!
The anonymity, duplicity and stealth
as we fool ourselves in the shadows
between lamps, so far from the sun.
Manipulate the truth
into whatever shape we please.
Get away with it – the human cruelties,
betrayals large and small,
the brutality, anger, greed and lust
which breed in that dark, moist scenario.
We lay it at the feet of those
we consider to be other-than-ourselves,
in our inability to concede
our own blindness and culpability
in the continual darkness that engulfs us all.
O child of God, Jesus said I am the Light
while Meher in Persian refers to the Sun.