I walked into the Light with no remorse. My heart would burst with her glories; for there were too many and not enough.
That day, it felt as though there were two, superhuman arms holding up the sky above my head – laughing with me as I gazed upon their strength. What Greco-Roman god had anything on these; these feats of power that rippled as muscles into the skies?
“Be brave.” They thundered. “Be fearless; passionately unaware of anything but this awesomeness.”
A thousand pictures would never do justice to the things that I beheld; for, I saw them with fresh eyes, dewy from an awakened sleep. How was the world this alive? Every sprig was a precious shoot of a deeper longing; every flower a thrill of an unheard song. There were sonnets in these beauties, but who had ever written them? Who had ever seen beyond the temporary glimpse of the seasons and their deaths? Did we ever know there was another way – an eternal spring of living, breathing, crying out for the joy of drinking in her worths? I had forgotten something I should have known; indeed, it was the sweet kiss of an ancient memory – a story I had once heard.
That day, I came home to another way; a way of looking through unfiltered sight into what could really be – I saw the connection in everything. We were meant to be alive; not just in our own skin but in everything, everywhere. This world was meant to remind us of where we came from – an echo in the night – and I’m telling you, we’re just one small step away from true daylight.
A head in the clouds,