the gathering dusk begins to choke the daylight my time to commune with the ghosts of twilight here I find my peace and the courage to fathom a silent grief, bone-deep and lonely uncurling around an abyss in foggy nights.
I race through this all under the pulsing luminescence of a sliver of moonlight penetrating bravely through silver clouds I refuse to be swallowed up in the shadows or be caught up in conflicting directions
We are all silhouettes in the dark and we learn that grieving is senseless a tasteless porridge of chaos and crisis if it's all for nothing, it becomes disorienting even more droll than the theater.
I try to meld into the murk and gloom prowling longingly like a cat beneath birds perched on trees, sleeping unperturbed it's transforming me, being one with it an experience of a touch of the Divine.