First Attempt at Haibun

But where are you? And where am I? I, running around trying to find my bearings. I, not knowing north from south, or left from right. I, completely bereft and emotionally dispossessed. Who are you? And who am I? How do I exist without a yin to harmonize my yang? Is there ever a time where black exists without white to balance it? Yes. Yes, there is. And that time is now. Now, when I awake and turn to nestle into your warmth and find instead an empty space. Now, when half a pot of coffee goes drainward and only one toothbrush hangs by the sink. Yes, darkness can exist without light.
I have seen the night
its darkness knows no limit
cocoons consciousness

 

I know you’re gone. I know I’m here. I, sitting calmly contemplating dust motes in a single beam of yellow sun that has forced its way in through the breach in the window curtains. I, learning to make half a pot. I, sleeping in the middle of a king-sized bed. I have discovered a faint-grey comma-shaped energy, emerging into my consciousness. It is from within. As it rises it begins to fit itself clumsily to my well-gripped dark black yang, bumping and shimmying until it is hugging my yang like an old friend. I sit. I feel. I watch the yin grow lighter.

I have seen the light
glowing growing faint the dawn
complete in myself