These lovers of the light

The images are foggy, smudged by the uncertainty that is projected. This is my struggle: to stay lucid, to stay connected to the only roots that I know to hold. To run blindfolded, to stay motionless while there is an urgency to leave. To love.  When there are signposts that guide in a direction we never intended to travel, then I bear witness. I swear an oath of fidelity, an oath to never cheat on loyalty. So this binds me, forever secures an airtight lock on my empty shell. The substance lies somewhere else, a place I can never truly get to. Momentarily I may see, but never be part of. Being where I am supposed to. Knowing painfully too well that where I am supposed to be is not where I am.

Magically you have disappeared. Not a word, not a sound thrown my way. But I go on, dutifully fill my days, each passing hour, each minute to count. Find distractions from you, from the screaming facts that otherwise would propel me to those better lands. Temporary, I hear your soothing voice, but I know better, so much better. I no longer believe you. Over the years I have forgotten to plan, to free myself of your lies. I stayed in one place in case you wandered around these streets I habit. In case I catch a glimpse of you in a hidden alley, on a magnificent bridge, a quiet bench. With each winter silently arriving and glamorously parading, notoriously leaving, it becomes apparent that I have outstayed my due welcome. It becomes apparent that I do not have the power to unchain my weak knees, so I fall to the ground. The only one I know.

My spirit is captive but free to roam. In these streets, in this city, the places I know. In this sweet prison my soul dies a little more each day. Where else could I belong? But the soul understands not the reasons to stay, only the reason to leave. Before it is not too late, I may eventually leave. Find the place you have hidden to. Visit the places we knew together, discover each day something more than the day before. I can see it in their eyes, faintly wanting to convince me to stay. Only very faintly and I am not convinced. Even if it is night, even if I steer my ship through dense darkness, I want to arrive where the light is. That may never be where you are, it may only be where I am.

 

The warm pull of the light, the sweet honesty of its charity. The memory of its silky touch, the force with which it sucked me in. That was once, already forgotten. I am gathering an army. I am calling on each soul that still remembers the light. The delirious, the delicious, the mesmerizing, the eternal light. I am building an army of souls that can conquer the darkness and push for the light, break beyond the shields. We will taste victory, taste the salty price of teardrops of frustration.

The light will move me, it will save me.

I beg you to move me. To save me.