Latent

I used to wait in the darkroom—latent image…emerging.

I used to wait for their eyes to pop—students watching, latent image…both emerging.

I used to wait for my children to be born—latent beings, full already…how could I have known?

I used to wait for my parents to call, my parents to die, for myself…to die.

How could I possibly have known?

That the latent image just needed to develop?

Latent: Ready, Full, Hidden.

Then, the magic occurs. Chemistry or is it alchemy, reveals the image. Magic.

Life.

Reality.

Back, to Magic.

For the image to hold it needs to be fixed. After it’s revealed, there’s no need to wait, any longer. The potential has been revealed. After the mourning, the image can be revealed in the full light of day. Poetry and pock marks, all to see.

For now, the worst has passed. More to come, but, my worst has passed, for now.

It’s time to bring out the helium tank. Small, limp balloons stand at the ready—plump, buoyant communicators of joy, hope, potential—latent heralds of a new day.