We climbed to the peak, setting out a blanket, arranging our journals, bibles, backpacks, and instruments, preparing for the moon.
As the clouds diminished, a yellow glow appeared behind the last wisps. She rose, confident and steady, the way she does every night, bright enough to cast my shadow behind me.
City Lights
like fireflies in jars
like a disappearing mirage
like neon laughing
The Soundtrack:
beyond the click and chirp
of mountaintop life,
the city rumbles
The Freeways
wires in my brain
firing synapses and neurons--
convincing me this all means something.
Out of our confinement,
we howl for freedom--
in words, rhythm, vibration, and spirit--
for new moon phases
to bring in the tide
and wash us away
to undiscovered depths.
The moon casts my shadow behind me, a shadow that is not me, a negative, empty outline of me.
"These are a shadow of the things to come, but the substance belongs to Christ." - Colossians 2:17
Follow truth where you find it, and you will be led to more truth.
As the clouds diminished, a yellow glow appeared behind the last wisps. She rose, confident and steady, the way she does every night, bright enough to cast my shadow behind me.
We watched, letting her draw us in like the tide. Sometimes we were silent. Sometimes we spoke. Sometimes there were no words, only rhythm and vibrations. Sometimes we wrote.
like fireflies in jars
like a disappearing mirage
like neon laughing
The Soundtrack:
beyond the click and chirp
of mountaintop life,
the city rumbles
The Freeways
wires in my brain
firing synapses and neurons--
convincing me this all means something.
Out of our confinement,
we howl for freedom--
in words, rhythm, vibration, and spirit--
for new moon phases
to bring in the tide
and wash us away
to undiscovered depths.
The moon casts my shadow behind me, a shadow that is not me, a negative, empty outline of me.
"These are a shadow of the things to come, but the substance belongs to Christ." - Colossians 2:17
Follow truth where you find it, and you will be led to more truth.