A grain of sand
in a dark shell—
now a pearl

A bucket
in a dark well,
lifts fresh water

The Bakawali flower
blooms only once,
in the cold of night.

This darkness is transformative
and not a prison,
I touch your face, I blossom.

Seeing begins in the dark
nightingales sing
in the night.

— Abraham Menashe
© 2017