We Grow Accustomed To The Dark

We grow accustomed to the Dark -
When light is put away -
As when the Neighbor holds the Lamp
To witness her Goodbye -

A Moment - We uncertain step
For newness of the night -
Then - fit our Vision to the Dark -
And meet the Road - erect -

And so of larger - Darknesses -
Those Evenings of the Brain -
When not a Moon disclose a sign -
Or Star - come out - within -

The Bravest - grope a little -
And sometimes hit a Tree
Directly in the Forehead -
But as they learn to see -

Either the Darkness alters -
Or something in the sight
Adjusts itself to Midnight -
And Life steps almost straight.

by Emily Dickinson

Comments (4)

Life will never be perfect...only “almost straight”, but we’ll figure out how to work through those problems. This is such an encouraging (all while being realistic) poem.
No robot reading this poem pls, it sounds ghastly -_-
...........profound, interesting and the theme is scary ★
I like this poem