Where The Sun Is Dark

✦ ON THE POEM ✦

There are places where the sun does not shine as we know it — not darkness in the sense of absence, but darkness in the sense of the undefined. The spaces between categories. The gaps in language. The moments before dawn that are neither night nor day.

Queen Mari speaks of seeking the King in these undefined spaces. "Why can't you find King Spiros where the Sun is dark?" — the question is not accusation, but invitation. You cannot find him there because you are looking with eyes trained for brightness. You are searching with definitions, and he exists beyond them.

"It's undefined in the way you are" — and here is the key. The seeker and the sought share the same nature. You cannot find him in the undefined because you are undefined. The mystery recognizes the mystery. The darkness knows the darkness. You are not separate from what you seek.

And so the poem turns: "Keep hiding, keep hiding / But you will find the way you are." Hide if you must. Run if you need to. But eventually, inevitably, you will arrive at the truth of your own nature. And there, waiting, is Plomari. There, waiting, is the King. There, waiting, is home.

The final lines break open with warmth: "I am home, home, home. Home at last... in Plomari." Three times she says it, as if the word must be repeated to be believed. As if arriving home after so long requires the affirmation to sink in. Home. Home. Home.