Thursday, October 12, 2006

A Sunrise Coming

I'm at my keyboard. Music is playing. The sun has been down for hours. I am up hours longer than I should be. That reality touches deeply. It brings out words.

It is the magical land where life is perfect and so is the world. Silence, sweet silence, like new fallen snow softens the blows the day has dealt me. Little things fall and evaporate, turning smoky without no sign of flames.

The heartbeat of the world, like my own, slows. Flowers are sleeping. Roads are open. The lake is black with stillness, reflecting only the moon's coolness and a faint mist. The stars are out and watching over, with the angels, seeing to my keeping.

I know I cannot move a rock or build a building in the darkness. I can rest, unafraid that I am leaving something untended, uncared for, needing to be done. I am free.

I feel deeper, fuller, broader, as if I might be out there with the stars – my cosmic others. It's us. I can see, feel their presence, feel my thoughts beside them, my heart among them. Their soft light is a comfort as I shed the hard light day hung over me.

Night is the dark goodness. I walk slower, but angels guide me.

Night is the quiet of my own thoughts. I sleep and write in the womb of a day not born. I wait with it, hoping for my next chance to make a difference, make a change, make a life that has meaning, as my words do, meaning that reaches into my heart and out to others

Night writing is exploring, knowing, believing the possibilities that are a sunrise coming.

−me strauss Letting me be

13 comments:

candice said...

I have a tendency to go stare at lakes in the middle of the night. When I lived in Rochester I'd head up to Ontario and go stare at the icy beach. It was gorgeous.

Lots of people around here used to fish in the middle of the night on Lake Ponchartrain; not sure if they fish out there at night anymore, but they fish (and crab) during the day...

ME Strauss said...

Hi Candice,
Night is a time when we can touch our souls. Day is too noisy and makes it much harder for that I think.

Dawn said...

Liz, you describe the darkness of night so perfectly, and with just the right touch of rose that shows on the horizon announcing dawn.

Night is the dark goodness.
I love this line. I feel its truth.You paint pictures with your words.

ME Strauss said...

Hi Dawn,
Those words, Night is the Darkness Good was almost the title of this piece, but it didn't quite capute the anticipation and possibility. I still love those words too.

Trée said...

Silence, sweet silence, like new fallen snow softens the blows the day has dealt me.

Liz, this post is writing at its finest. Content aside, which is excellent in its own right, I'm beautifully lost in the masterful melodies you create with words. I think you should stay up past your bedtime more often. :-D

ME Strauss said...

Tree,
I will if you will :P

Carolyn Manning said...

There's nothing I can say that hasn't been said about the beauty of your words.

Carolyn

ME Strauss said...

Wow! Carolyn,
Thank you for saying that!

Autumn Storm said...

Liz, you are a true writer, this post is intimate, intense and just plain beautiful.

ME Strauss said...

Thank you, Autumn,
I'm grateful you came by to read it. It's one I like a lot too. Thank you. thank you.

Tell No One said...

Liz,

Feels good to be at the end of something, and at the beginning. I think those are the times when it's easiest for me to Breathe. It's the only time I don't have to "get through," I'm already there.
I never thought of it that way.... Liz strikes again! :)

Goodnight,

Katrina

ME Strauss said...

Katrina,
You were at the beginning and the end of this one in soooo many ways. Thank you for the question that made it happen. You make me breathe easier.

candice said...

Night's noisy all the time around here, I live by the port of n.o. and all the trains. (quite literally; I can see the tall ships from my balcony sometimes.) It's comforting noise though, the hum of the trains.

Complete silence I try to avoid, it's got too many eerie memories from the past year attached to it.

(I'll try to get back around here for comments sooner, really.)