By Light and Dark
(Dedicated to the artwork of the brilliant Matt Ottley.)
Imagine if I could only see
the world according to light,
an oncoming storm,
would fill me with unbelievable delight!
(Kid, small, on beach under approaching, rolling dark, with few remaining patches of light sining down on ocean.)
A bright, shiny day
might not be nature’s peek,
(Other kids playing beach cricket. Boy shielding his eyes, looking straight up at sky.)
but in a patchwork sky,
I could lose myself for weeks.
(Boy walking through valley full of streaks of light and patchwork cloud shade on hills.)
My view would be affected,
by the tone of the air,
(Boy running, laughing, half body/face covered in setting s light, other hand dark. Background similarly affected.)
a shift in light, a certain angle,
and, yeah, watch me stare.
(Two very young kids playing in dead leaves, throwing into air. Filtered light from leaves and trees all over their faces.)
Imagine if the way light hit,
was what affected my moods,
The roll of sun and shadow at dusk,
what my soul consumed as food.
Now imagine if said light,
danced across your face
You might convince me,
into black and white.
A hazy mountain range,
line-filled forest floor,
the rich dark of a gully,
oh, we would explore.
Our imagination would run wild,
when light and dark suited.
We’d try to live in that moment,
just past sunset,
when dragons’ breath is not muted.
The gentle hue of autumn,
on a pregnant lady’s bulge,
long shadows working the fields,
and the stories that they told.
(Wordless page of boy and girl talking to an old man who’s face is stark b&w contrast, arms out, telling tales of his life we can just make out in the shadows behind him.)
(Boy and girl waling past/watching older kid dancing, his shadow long and skinny dancing behind him on the wall.)
(Boy and girl looking up as an eagle shadow covers their faces.)
The colours underwater, as an octopus swam by,
filtered by a passing cloud,
(Boy and girl, snorkels on, underwater, as filtered dark light catches octopus they are watching.)
the shifting weight it provided,
would make us feel quite proud.
By night the world would be black,
but on the rising of the moon,
a whole new planet would rise,
making both of us swoon.
Oh, the moon would be our God!
Seep through our every need.
By its light, we would sail, upon the ocean’s flesh,
at a lazy, timeless speed.
(Boy and girl in tinny on rolling, glassy, dark surface, under the moon and Milky Way.)
And if, in any twisting of bright and shade,
the moment caught your smile,
it would fill me with a sweet delight,
that light would stretch a mile.