Clarity

There is a point in any given day,
that point when it's all clear.
Clear as a crisp fall day,
or a cold mountain stream.
That clarity is uncomfortable, isn't it?
It's so much easier when it's dark.
When it's foggy.
When it's murky.
When it's distant.
Way out there, removed from you.
It's easier to hide, blinders on,
head in the sand, avoiding the light.
Pretend it's not you, it's out there,
apart from you. But you know.
The clarity creeps in now and then,
and you know.
I know you know.