Still

Still-

There are nights
when the moon refuses closure,
the weight of stars
presses inward,
and the silence answers nothing.

Only slow, unresolvable memory-
soft, blue edges of fracture-
love’s quiet resignation.

But something else is possible.

A turning.
Not away,
but deeper past recognition,
and deeper still past feeling.

To look at the moment
fully, without flinching,
and see not just the defeat
but the lesson.

Not just the pain
but the surrender.

Not just the suffering
but the melancholy.

This too belongs.

This too will not be wasted.

And in that moment
something yields.

And the moon resolves
to loosen its grip on your heart.

And the stars soften
just enough
to let you move on,
not fully understanding.

The tides of fate
are always in motion.
One deepens the moment.
Then one moves it
achingly forward.

Somewhere between,
life unfolds
messy, unresolved,
and crashes,
unexpectedly,
impossibly,

against beauty
and melancholy-
that quiet, golden shadow
that follows awareness
like a second hand.

And so you continue-

slowly,
not all at once,
not perfectly-

not failing,
not aligning,
not misaligning,
not quite leaving,
not quite returning-

again,
and again,
and again.

Reviews

[emmajoygreen]

Your words, start to finish, teach and inspire. The 'all about' holds space. For surely we're already part of it. Your words seem to accept that already and truly hope that your reviews will agree and join you in the joy of having more than we thought we had lost or not yet found.

'And so you continue-

slowly,
not all at once,
not perfectly-

not failing,
not aligning,
not misaligning,
not quite leaving,
not quite returning-

again,
and again,
and again.'

Yes. Please.

[John Sullivan]

This is wonderful. The moon is implacable, and the stars occasionally grow dim. The truth of the melancholy vs. the suffering. We don't always suffer, but the melancholy can haunt long after. In the bones. And all things are a lesson, we can hope. Nicely done.