The darkness
is my solitude.
I wait. Here.
For the moon to rise.
The stars are her storytellers.
I wait.
There is no beauty like the murk.
The silhouette of our lives; glowing
under the moon’s light. I no longer hide in the obscurity.
The connection between light and dark; revealed in a shadow.
Magic is visible in the night sky. The twilight heals me.
The new world is in the skies. The stars flicker with a history
of a fallen world beneath. If only they looked up.
Before the glow fades.
Metanoia in a cup 