The birds speak of a kindred soul
One that basks in the afterglow
of a solemn moon lingering in the daylight

and you watch as nights go on
the way it changes phases
falling in love with the idea
of embracing the volatility of life

real as it is

she incurs the rigours

on her own in a void

far removed from rationality;

out of her element


esoteric whims float in and out

of her headspace;overruled

inexplicable visions,holographs;

phantoms from a past

seemingly remote

overshadow her mindscapes

Even in a situation I had once or twice,
begrudgingly dreamed myself in,
never anticipating the morphing from one state to another,
of contemplation to reality,
I no longer dread.

Even within the month that usually drags me to my knees,
I accomplish the impossible and turn my sight towards the sun,
golden hour still exists and dust still sways in its light.

And yes,
even with all of this,
unrequited circumstance,
my mind and body still dance.

in the moment,
we endure the pain,
we accept the challenge,
we live to survive,

but somewhere down the line,
we have to heal
we try to forget
we learn our lessons.