That’s why I seek the storms of the
night. The fury. The devastation. The
swirling darkness. The blind sin. To
the morning. To this morning. When I
have to be the sun. Not the sky. Not
the shadow. Force sight. Force
myself to see. I have to be the sun
that makes you visible. You exist again
and I have to see you as you really
are. Not calligraphed by rain. Not
embellished by mist. Not remembered
better than you can be. In the morning,
this morning, I have to be the sun
and you are still who you always were.
But now we cannot turn off the light.
THOUGHT PURGE 
This seems to be a passionate call for clarity.
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I could feel the sting of the storm on my arms as I read this. Great read!
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Thanks so much, Arnab…
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I have to be the sun
that makes you visible.
The fault of those responsible for not carrying out what they are required to.do. Someone has to be doing the policing. It’s a pity!
Hank
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Thanks so much, Hank.
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Beautiful poem!
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Thanks so much, Ayala.
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The poem feels like a calligraphed love letter, and the rhythm kept me spellbound. Beautiful!
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Thanks so much, Khaya.
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Oh, I love this. To be in the dark rage of a storm and then be forced to become revealing sunlight is powerful. Wow!
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Thanks so much, Susie.
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I love this idea of being the sun. Committed to truth. And, I hope, warming you when that truth brings heartache.
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Thank you 🙂
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I have to be the sun
that makes you visible” It’s like we exist because we get seen. Love the last line A beautiful poem
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Thanks so much, Marja.
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ugh. I wrote a comment that didn’t go through. I won’t repeat, but know that I loved this.
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This appeals to me on a personal level of interpretation. I needed this but won’t elaborate about why.
I will say I loved it and love how light unveils truth.
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Thanks so much, Myrna. Am glad the poem was there when it was needed. Wishing you the best.
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Wowww! This is incredibly potent, Rajani ❤️ Especially like; ” You exist again and I have to see you as you really are. Not calligraphed by rain.”
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Thanks so much, Sanaa.
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Simply beautiful!
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Thanks so much, Helen.
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Luv the affirmation of light ” have to be the sun” i gather that the poets soul must be her guiding muse seeking truth
Happy Wednesday
Much🕊❤🕊love
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So true, Gillena. Thank you. We have to find that compass by which our poems can navigate the murk.
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“and you are still who you always were.” There’s an aura of calmness about the sentence against all that turbulence. Very intriguing!
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Thanks, Sumana. Seeing is a choice we make.. sometimes we make ourselves see reality..mostly we flounder, half-blind in denial.
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Through your gentle weaving of sharp heart observations, a clarity: it is far more poetic to be better than who we are than what full sunlight reveals us truly as. The ‘calligraphy of rain’ requires far less truth than what cannot be hidden in the nakedness of light. Can we take that much truth? You leave us wondering. So well done, Rajani.
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Can we take that much truth? No…not at all.. so we keep recalibrating our definition of truth..and light. Thanks so much, Brendan.
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Very intriguing… I pondered this for a while. The physical is easily understood – but I think there is also an emotional vulnerability that is a bit emboldened when the night arrives (or the lights are turned off…)
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Thanks so much, Margaret.
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The last few lines of this are incredible.
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Thank you, Toni.
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In the darkness we can always imagine… light can be ever so cruel.
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True! Thanks, Bjorn.
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There’s got to be a morning after, someone sang in a song. But does it have to show all the flaws that we never noticed in the dark?
Nicely done.
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Hmm.. does it…i wonder! Thanks so much, Tim.
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Great build up and conclusion. I usually love shadow and poetic moon more than the glare of sun. Those times in between are best….dusk and sunset.
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Thank you, Colleen.
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There’s a sense that the subject is as much addressing themselves as the one they are speaking to. The repetition feels like a need to remind themselves that nothing gets solved by looking away from truth or softening its edges down to a soothing lie.
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Yes, sweet coated reality can get terribly toxic. Thanks, Rommy.
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I feel like this describes quite well the reason why I always stay up late working on writing projects.
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Thanks, Cara.
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I love the way your poem starts with the fury of storms, Rajani, so full of movement, the shift from night to morning, and the way the sun brings clarity in the lines:
‘…I have to be the sun
that makes you visible. You exist again
and I have to see you as you really
are. Not calligraphed by rain. Not
embellished by mist. Not remembered
better than you can be’.
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Thank you, Kim.
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Beautiful, Rajani. I love the gentle repetition weaving throughout. You held me spellbound 🙂
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Thanks so much, Ryan. Always good to get your feedback!
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