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Mar 23
I lay on my back,
Crystal water
Washing around me
Ringing in clarity.

Waving gold forests
Caress my fingertips.
Their shimmering spots of sun
Soothing to me.

Clouds, cotton candy at first,
Fill space and time
With sureness and sense
With fragile glass eyes
I watch them go by.

They float farther and farther
Sun brighter and brighter.
Iā€™m still,
Brittle,
Clear water washing over me,
As I drown in the vast, empty sky.

Swirling silt rises as the my thoughts pollute the water,
Blackened, poisoned by my mind.

I lay in darkness, frozen in murky-still slush.
A thickening swamp to rot in,
What does it take to stop clinging to the bottom and rise,
Rise above the murk to clarity,
Away from the sediment,
Up towards serenity?

A last strand of sunlight reaches down,
I shut it out,
Searching for a light within
Searching for something to brighten my own darkness after the sun will set

One ray.
One sliver of clarity will be enough.
When will it come?
How was my world so light before, so clear?
Waves lap over my face, over my head, over my chest,
Revealing a faint glow.
A new angle, new feeling, for once a breath of air.

Just enough.
Enough to part the swirling silt,
To catch a glimpse of an inky sky.

Though it may have seemed otherwise before,
She is not empty,
But filled with stars.
Small, far away,
But breathing light,
Glowing and just bright enough to soften the vast emptiness before me.

All with their own lives,
clear streams or silty quagmires,
All so far and alone but still shining, beaming with hope.

Just enough
Just enough to relight a spark, to bring a silvery luminescence to the waving, silent forest.
Still swirling with silt, but growing clearer each day.

Enough to see the thick, rich clouds,
Collage on canvas,
Layers stripped away to reveal
Stern colors beneath.

The clouds changed,
No longer fillers and pillows,
Now new and untamed.
A complement to the sky, not her replacement.

And in my corner of this sky,
I learned I was the moon.
Though I would darken,
Draped by shadow,
I would always find a spark to light my own way in the vast emptiness of a tortured mind.
And perhaps even enough for a lost star to claim its light.
Written by
Iskra  a rainy place
(a rainy place)   
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