I’ve been moving through phases like the moon. I aspire to be full, only to get caught back in the dark and remerge as New.
Not quite whole, I struggle to deal with the demons I can’t slay. I continue on course emerging as the crescent, allowing the light in to stay.
The hope to reappear in fuller form lives inside of me, but the woes of the world draw a shadow of doubt. Doubt turns to fear.
The fear is crippling but also the fuel to keep me moving forward in direction. I reach for the light as much as I can, it’s warm. Almost there.
Others see the light. Mostly just the light. The darkness isn’t pretty.
Look at her shine, she’s brighter, such a fighter. I want to be like her. How does she over come the dark sky?
I don’t, can’t you see the rest of me?
Ever changing, I am. Feeling and healing, only to be living in grief again. The grief has a moment of clarity, something I hadn’t seen. Here we go, I’m changing.
Slow and steady, I’m not moving fast enough through this place.
Breathe, it’s not a competition, this is your phase.
You’re right, so bright, both in vision and in mind. I like changing with the moon, she’s predictable and in her own time. I want to be more like her, she seems to know what she’s doing and without fear.
She moves through phases until she cycles back. Is she as hard on herself as I am for not sitting still? She never stays whole or stays in one place, hell she’s a ball that floats in space.
A ball in the air, in awe, they stop and stare. No one gives her a hard time, her beauty can’t be compared.
I feel like I could resemble the moon, maybe we all do. She spends much of her time in the dark but continues towards the light. She never stays put because she never stops trying.
Her ability to move through phases gracefully and slow are things I could stand to know. Or the way she never compares herself to others, because there’s nothing that comes close.
She’s unique and flawed, yet beautiful when she shines. I’d like to keep her, and have her as my teacher. I could be hers and she could be mine.
It’s odd to love something so cracked, who spends her time in the dark but also in the light. It’s like she’s me to some degree and just figuring out her life.
I’m not sure I’m ready to love myself the way I fully love her. But I see our similarities and the possibilities, maybe I could in the future.
I move like her, from phase to phase. She speaks kindly to me and explains each stage. I grapple for control and yearn to let go, and she gives me permission to do so.
I’m floating away.
Here I go, the darkness is thick and cold. My eyes are wet, my heart feels dead, this hurts worse than I was told. I think this is it, she lied to me, I won’t survive the night. Until my eye catches a glimpse of light as it closes for the last time.
I’m overtaken by heat, the warmth, all consuming; I’m alive and I am stunned. I whip right past her, only to ask her if this life is finally done.
She sends me a sign, shivers up my spine as she softly whispers. I never lied to you, I live inside of you, this phase you earned and won. Your time is here, you finally surrendered, enjoy your moment in the sun.