820. Waiting for Light to Rise

Each morning now the night gets longer, the darkness grows, & light fades.

Before the inevitable sun appears, there is a period in between…

… of waiting.

And in between days of time where the air is, and I am, & you are… the world appears,

Stuck between a way of being where there is a promise of light but the dissonance of dark hangs heavily in the moment.

Waiting for light to rise I am here in the dark but am trying to let it go,

Let it slip through my fingers of the wanting of you, your lips upon the faraway peaks poised and waiting.

I feel the oncoming want of the kiss of a faint hint of life promising hope of future days,

And future lips and future kisses,

I long.

And now the darkness of looming devils slowly show their faces, from midnight horrors, the the shaken profile of demons, and fear, while the waiting slowly disappears,

And still waiting and the letting go, as raw & as the feeble shaking of hands resonate in fear,

Your lips and eyes and hair now revealed and the love in the darkness I had been left lonely,

Now light rises, I finally close my eyes in the wanting, reach out my arms to lovers now skyward,

“Buy the sky and sell the sky and tell the sky and tell the sky,

Don’t fall on me,”

And I wait still for you as the sun now warm on my closed eyes,

And I feel your lips upon my lips, your hands upon my body, your breath moving in and out, and fear is no more,

As light finally comes,

And I come,

To the feeble hope of the now,

And the fragile wanting of future days,

Your lips upon my lips,

Your tongue silently threaded through mine,

Finally,

And finally still,

Light rises,

The day washes through me,

As you wash all the darkness from within,

I let go.

Love.