When I drive in the city at night
I never have to use the high beams.
There are lights all around,
really don't even need headlights,
can barely see my own anyway.
Recognition comes from
the reflections of luminescence
that lie ahead of me.
There is no need for disconcertion,
for the light surrounds.
It is warm,
dazzling,
safe.
Everything can be seen,
the paths to be chosen are illuminated.
When outside the city limits,
way, way, way past the orange glow,
400 miles from the enveloping comfort that I ache for,
down a long, long stretch of uninhabited road,
cutting through towers of old growth forest and ancient glacial rock,
on a moonless, starless night,
darkness ... swallows me up.
The fog that floats in the air
wraps itself around me,
sealing in the sound of silence.
Insignificance and invisibleness,
palpable.
The mark I leave on this world
all but erased.
No one to see the trails that follow the contours of my face
but I.
No ears to hear
the desperate
fear filled
gasps in my throat
but mine.
In the midst of shadows,
the thickness of black,
The Dark Night of the Soul,
I am searching for my light,
trying to find the high beams.
It is the only thing I have left,
if only a few feet at a time,
that will show me the path to follow.
11 - 29 - 2014
