i write

I am awake. I am wide awake. I have never been so awake in a lifetime. 

I am exhausted, yet fully awake. I am one with the night.  She comforts me.  Sister Moon Child smiles upon me through the window above me.  I tilt my weary chin upward and smile.  She tosses stardust upon my crown like confetti.  For a solitary moment, I am Cinderella.  When I close my eyes, I feel stars resting upon my eyelashes.  I wish to place my palms upon the crushed deep velvet of night. 

Daybreak is stark realization.  When light comes, the beauty of this world shall cease.  My pulse, a deafening halt shall be.  People, society, madness.  I do not welcome the incessant chatter.  This is mine right now, this night, now.  Right here.  Only mine.  For me alone, this night.

The quiet of night is a lovers embrace.

The dawn is also angelic.  When she drags her belly, pregnant and full across the purpling sky, it is then I also feel alive.  Gossamer cotton streams of dreams are translucent upon the face of dawn.  Nights shallow breath then trails midair, swirling in blues and pinks, a trapeze artist on tightrope.  Only to fall to untimely death.  Those are dawns that when night falls, I hunger for the day.

Night can also be deceiving.  There have been seconds to minutes to hours, I have been assailed by terror.  The clock on the wall thunderous, incessant barking laughter, reminding me that I am indeed, very much alone.  It seems the dank stench of hell is sometimes present at night.  I have heard voices of the stricken in night.  Those are nights I pray for the light.

This is not one of those nights.

I write.  This is what I do.  Tonight, I write of the night.  Of the quiet stillness of her breath.  She welcomes me, this night.  A reprieve from the madness of this day. 

The room I am in is blessed, protected.  I come here to write, to find myself, to refocus.  Here, this night, tonight, I am alive.

It is here I found my own small voice.  By the side of my sleeping child.  I kissed him on the forehead and was gifted with sight.  It is the quiet tips of wings of angels that surround me, found me.  This is night.  This night, only tonight, right now, my senses are intense. 

It is right here a new dawn shall greet me.  It is here I will then be lonely for the night.  It is here, right now, I hold the heavens in my heart. 

I am a stranger in this land, a bastard child of the new world. 

I do not belong here, yet must plow forward. 

There is no turning back.


© Susan Marie 2009