Darkness into Light
By Don Iannone

The night brews long,
The sun must wait,
Sing your song,
'cause it's your fate.

Listen for the three AM train,
And when it comes celebrate,
We all at times feel quite insane,
In places deep, love can't penetrate.

Lying there in the dark,
Wrapped in loneliness and despair,
Tonight you seem an easy mark,
For now, life seems so very unfair.

Questions hover like thick clouds,
Darker than the darkest night,
Rise above the somber crowds,
Don't give up without a fight.

Finally, when morning comes,
And the dark night has passed,
Your pain grows light and succumbs,
There your heart stands steadfast.

Greet the sun with a smile,
Let it fill you with soothing light,
Rest there in peace for awhile,
May your day be ever bright.

Winter Night
By Don Iannone















By the golden fireplace we sat, listening
to the deep silence fall,
like the heavy snow, blanketing
the unflinching forest, lit with sharp edges
by the light of the near full December moon.
Stray fluffy flakes momentarily come to rest,
and then melt on the steamy windowpane.
The fire's flames rise and fall in lunar harmony,
casting faint shadows about the room.
We marvel that each moment seems so different,
much like the magical snowflakes.
On this night, the things mattering before,
now seem far less important,
as the silence of the winter night fills us.

In the Heart of the Night
By Don Iannone

There is a heart
that beats in the night.
It carries us into our dreams,
where our heart opens us
to the world of all possibilities.
There is a heart
that beats in the night
connecting us
to the boundaryless universe we call home,
but only know in our hearts.
There is a heart
that beats in the night
awakening our soul,
which exists in both repeated
and unrepeated vastness.
Listen closely to your heart beat at night.
It dreams of new possibilities you will become.

Near Night Moment
By Don Iannone

The sunset bleeds a delicate rainbow
of oranges, yellows, pinks, and reds
across the fading blue summer Arizona sky.
Just barely within ear shot,
the first coyote yelps in approval
of the melting pastel masterpiece.
His voice, like the moment holding it,
follows the wind and the sun into the west,
where all are swallowed by the hungry night.
Dark edges form along the tree tops,
haunting them with secrets
that the night will hide until morning.
A slight breeze gathers out of nowhere,
carrying the scent of wild sage and sweet acacia,
stinging our noses with pleasure.
Daybreak will bring an even more spectacular sunrise,
but my heart longs to hold this near-night moment forever.

2:53 AM
By Don Iannone

Dead silence
...so loud
...it awakened me
...from my dream.
Something about...
frozen red roses
...sparkling from afar
...and then suddenly within reach
...of my imagination.
Reminds me of...
frozen strawberries.
Eye candy.
Bright red, sweet, cold, sticky.
I wish I could remember
...more of my dream
...and forget other things
...tapping their long gray fingers
in my head.
We had a spat of rain last night
...a few tinny taps on the roof
...but enough
...to make me look at the clock.
Am I really awake?
Why does that sound
like a spiritual question
...and not just an innocent question
...you ask yourself at 2:53 AM?
The air is thick
...hovering about
...like my dream
...but without words.
Why do I feel the rain
in my head?
It's long gray fingers drumming.
It's no longer 2:53 AM.