Midnight River

No one understood how deep the darkness was. 
This darkness was not the redeeming darkness of night.   
It was a darkness that crept across the page, between words. 

River water ran through her blood.
It renewed her soul, flowing both deep and muddy
in places, and rippling with sparkles in others.  
She looked for redemption in these waters of contrast.   
She tried to let water wash the darkness away but it was too heavy.  
Words and water alone were not enough this time. 
This was a darkness she fought with everything she had.

The road she followed was not others’ road. 
Hers was a solitary journey, of discovery, of quietude. 
She stood for moments in silence, just breathing,
absorbing the energy and history people left behind.
It’s what made places holy.

She wanted to fly. 
To spread her arms and take flight,
bending her fingertips to catch the breeze and glide,
to follow her heart without blinking,  
to feel weightless again, but open cage doors

are of no use to a bird with a broken wing.
Though glass birds sparkle in the sun, they shatter when they fall.

She knew some paths were meant to be lit by the sun
while other paths were better lit by the moon and stars.

Moonlight changed her when she breathed it in. 
It seeped into her veins and silvered her soul,
awakening her anew to the wonders of night,
helping her see things she couldn’t,
helping her understand things she didn’t.

She inhaled the night like a bouquet,  
Taking comfort in landscapes darkness hid, 
 glaring imperfections of a man-made world
overtaken by soft purple shadows of dusk
and even softer grays of moonlight.  

She wondered what was out there.
Nervous but aching to fly. 
Because when she felt the wind in her face,
she could see, she could create, she could be.

She looked for rain to wash down on her,
baptize her soul with color.
So she would always have an artist’s eye,
a musician’s ear, a poet’s soul.

Her poet's voice urged her to write,
inner fears held her back.

Voices within argued over her pen.
She wrestled between opening her heart
and keeping it safely closed, protected.

Allowing herself to be loved was so much work.
She wished she did not understand...
   - what it felt like when a heart stops beating
   - that love cannot conquer everything
   - that the night does not hide everything
   - that she could not fly like a bird.