on a long drive home
at another sluggish traffic light,
screaming, “RED, RED, RED,”
my eyes lifted a few inches
to the negative space above it.
Odd how we call that negative space, isn’t it?
I wouldn’t bond sparkling glimmers of light against a midnight-colored canvas
with a word like “negative.”
Hopeful, inspiring, uplifting?
Negative is the degree that’s been taking my breath away
the moment my skin greets the outdoor atmosphere these days.
But against this darkness that is night
I was blessed with the spectacle
of a meteor’s birth and death.
I’ve seen them before,
but never has one been so relatively slow,
encapsulating its residence in a close, fiery hue,
gliding along its path with a firework’s essence
so much that I could almost hear the crackling.
What lasted for a second
lasted for hours.
Funny how something that insignificant can stun you
so that you don’t notice the traffic light’s change in demeanor
to a quiet, green whisper.
How’d that old song go?
“Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket,
Never let it fade away.”
But what’s the point of saving your glow
for the perfect moment
if it stays so secretly hidden?
Aren’t we all just one of these stars,
a life that seems so long,
but too brief,
against the canvas of our entire universe?
Why should I save my light for a rainy day
when I can let the rainy day reignite me?
Depriving my light of oxygen would only make it dwindle,
and I’m not ready to fade into the darkness.
The struggles pour my fuel.
The hardships strike my match.
The triumphs fan my flame.
The pedal gives into the force of my foot
as my right eyebrow arches,
and the corners of my lips turn slightly upward.
I can’t help but feel something kindle in my chest.
Watch me fly.
Watch me fall.
Watch me breathe.
Watch me burn.
watch me fade in freedom.