What if
darkness wasn't the absence of light
sadness the lack of happiness
death the opposite of life?
What if they exist in the singular,
and they just are -
and the blind man crossing the road
with a white stick,
debating whether to have lunch
or a bunch of sleeping pills,
only to be lowered to the ground
a week later
is just like you and me?
The you and me
who can see the light,
are happy
and alive.