It’s black outside.
Seems it’s blacker this year than ever before.
Used to be I loved the cover of dark in these early hours. I used to love the hug of Time taking its time to spend moments with me. I used to love the feeling of there being no one but me in a secret refuge I called my own
I still do.
But somehow this year the darkness feels too familiar – suffocating, stifling – like a perfect hiding place gone rogue.
… and endlessly long.
So I wander to the window, I look to the horizon, and I wait.
I search for the slightest hint that Morning hasn’t forgotten his route. I scan the distance past the lawn and houses cloaked in this sunless eternity. I look desperately for the icy blue that will begin the crack in the blackness that has snaked its way to my core
and I hold my breath
I hold fast to the last star’s fading twinkle
… looking – as one who sees darkly
… waiting – as one in slow-motion
… hoping – as one who prays to remember that Life ushers in a new day
e v e r y d a y
Even in the midst of all things dark and ugly and sad
~hope is near~
and I still believe.
I believe in Truth and Goodness
I believe in Purpose and His ferocious love
… And even in the darkest of nights
I still believe in Morning.