The Darkness
I know the subject says poetry bee, but this isn't exactly a story, and it seems more poetic to me than anything, so forgive me the lack of physical poetic form. My apologies. Please let me know what you think, though. I'd appreciate it!
Darkness.
Usually dismal, ominous, looming over you like a nightmare. Not this time.
Rejuvenating.
An extended time, almost like a dream, with no severe colors to slash your eyes and head like a knife, no harsh, fake lights made of chemicals to make your head pound out its own rhythm of pain.
Silence.
No television, no radio; only your voice, your breath, your heart creating a symphony of life. You can almost hear your soul. You only have to listen......
The Moon.
Bathing you in light; soft, velvety purples and blues and grays; white, glowing like a beacon.
Awe.
The fact that you and everyone else are so small, so weak. Without light, we are nothing. Now you know. You feel your shell of power and light cracking, crumbling under the pressure of the dark, the quiet. The emptiness.
Disbelief.
You rush outside into the crisp winter air, and, in the midst of running outside, you stop. You hold your breath and listen. The night, as you breath in, fills you up with a longing. You look up.
Stars.
Stars fill the sky, and the moon, with its pale, bright face, complements them. You can only stare, wondering about nothingness while they wink at you, saying 'I know.'
Joy.
The realization that you are stranded, nobody can reach you unless you can see them. The only contact is touch. You are lost but not alone on an island of dark.
Relief.
Nothing, for these moments, can bother you. Struck with the newness of the feeling, your worries, so abundant in the light, wash away.
Safety.
At least for the moment, you are vulnerable yet unafraid. The calm encompasses you, holds you close, like an old friend. And just for a moment, you know. You know who you are, where you stand, why you are here. Just for a second. Then,
Reality.
The lights turn back on, and all is lost, forgotten. Like the light, your problems flood back into you with the force of a raging storm, the effect just as disastrous. Those moments in the return of power, those first few, are full of longing. What you had just gained has been lost, and despite the feeling of security we have in the light, you almost....almost....wish that the darkness would stay, just a little longer.
The Dream.
That night, you dream. You stand alone on a dark, silent street, bathed in the moon and stars, wearing only white, flowing garments. Looking up, you begin to dance, and it returns. Everything you learned comes back to you, and you feel whole. The darkness completes your understanding, which has been washed over with blinding lights. In the dark, you can see. You spin away your worries, and you become a silver blur. Nothing can touch you here. This is your domain. The moon and stars dance with you, and the only music you have is the wind, your heart, and, if you listen carefully, your soul.
Usually dismal, ominous, looming over you like a nightmare. Not this time.
Rejuvenating.
An extended time, almost like a dream, with no severe colors to slash your eyes and head like a knife, no harsh, fake lights made of chemicals to make your head pound out its own rhythm of pain.
Silence.
No television, no radio; only your voice, your breath, your heart creating a symphony of life. You can almost hear your soul. You only have to listen......
The Moon.
Bathing you in light; soft, velvety purples and blues and grays; white, glowing like a beacon.
Awe.
The fact that you and everyone else are so small, so weak. Without light, we are nothing. Now you know. You feel your shell of power and light cracking, crumbling under the pressure of the dark, the quiet. The emptiness.
Disbelief.
You rush outside into the crisp winter air, and, in the midst of running outside, you stop. You hold your breath and listen. The night, as you breath in, fills you up with a longing. You look up.
Stars.
Stars fill the sky, and the moon, with its pale, bright face, complements them. You can only stare, wondering about nothingness while they wink at you, saying 'I know.'
Joy.
The realization that you are stranded, nobody can reach you unless you can see them. The only contact is touch. You are lost but not alone on an island of dark.
Relief.
Nothing, for these moments, can bother you. Struck with the newness of the feeling, your worries, so abundant in the light, wash away.
Safety.
At least for the moment, you are vulnerable yet unafraid. The calm encompasses you, holds you close, like an old friend. And just for a moment, you know. You know who you are, where you stand, why you are here. Just for a second. Then,
Reality.
The lights turn back on, and all is lost, forgotten. Like the light, your problems flood back into you with the force of a raging storm, the effect just as disastrous. Those moments in the return of power, those first few, are full of longing. What you had just gained has been lost, and despite the feeling of security we have in the light, you almost....almost....wish that the darkness would stay, just a little longer.
The Dream.
That night, you dream. You stand alone on a dark, silent street, bathed in the moon and stars, wearing only white, flowing garments. Looking up, you begin to dance, and it returns. Everything you learned comes back to you, and you feel whole. The darkness completes your understanding, which has been washed over with blinding lights. In the dark, you can see. You spin away your worries, and you become a silver blur. Nothing can touch you here. This is your domain. The moon and stars dance with you, and the only music you have is the wind, your heart, and, if you listen carefully, your soul.
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