In order to push it away, one needs only to turn on lights to keep away the unknown and uncontrollable. Just beyond the bright light lurks the silken black tongue of death; the untethered hound of destruction from childhood nightmares.
Common counsel is to install lighting outside; at our homes, in our yards, at the gas stations, in unoccupied spaces, in the car lots at three thirty in the deep of the night. This it is said discourages the agents of death, the takers of property and possession; the thieves. Thus say the authorities.
In the brightness of our own nation, the bearers of so-called light are our politicians, the police, the military; they dispel our fears of the destroyer. They are sent forth to the dark lands to bring our baptismal 'light' to those whom we feel know no light, in effect to destroy the destroyer and keep him from our doorstep.
Our eyes very rarely need to see into the darkness, we have so much light. We flip switches, mash buttons, and hesitate to look past the halo of brightness. To venture when dark into the places we know so well in the light doesn't pass into our processes.
Light, in many ways,has become our hobble, our crutch, a pillion against using the strength within. We don't need any one else's light, it is unclean and impure, and besides, we have so much of our own flowing from wires and bulb, there is no need to exercise our eyes.
Can you see the stars from your home? Can you see any darkness at all from your window or stoop?
What do you fear at the edge of the light?