Most walk a piebald path in daylight’s forest :
dappled light and speckled shade,
images of choices made.

For some, night-cloaked creeping is their way of wont :
darkened glooms and black-gray hues,
nightmare-shapes of what they choose.

Still others take a hard-found way, one higher :
climbing out of shadow’s mark,
into light, away from dark.

All yet know the secret told by light and dark :
light is love and life and sense,
dark is simply their absence.