Not the profound dark
night of the soul

and not the austere desert
to scorch the heart at noon,
grip the mind
in teeth of ice at evening

but gray,
a place
without clear outlines,

the air
heavy and thick

the soft ground clogging
my feet if I walk,
sucking them downwards
if I stand.

Have you been here?
Is it

a part of human-ness

to enter
no man's land?

I can remember
(is it asking you
that
makes me remember?)
even here

the blessed light that caressed the world
before I stumbled into
this place of mere
not-darkness.