in the later thicker depths of night, a door opens.
a thin wedge of moonlight makes its way across the space between the window and the doorhandle
it crosses my face
and as i turn to watch it pass through the air
i see the handle moving
as a rearrangement of shadows and light.
i'm transfixed.
is it my imagination?
is it really happening?
the air is electric.
every tiny element of the moment held
in the fullness of a blackness
gently pierced from somewhere
within which there's light ...
a tiny pinprick
almost blinding
in its intensity ...
perhaps it comes from inside me
perhaps
it's merely passing through
still,
the handle
continues turning.
do i move closer to see who is opening the door?
do i stay in bed and pull the covers closer to my eyes?
"come in", i say.
"come in, and tell me your stories".
this
is how love
enters the world
i was listening to "krishna blue" by david sylvian when i wrote this.
what a great image...
ReplyDeleteBeautiful imagery but to one who is afraid of the dark - a bit scary Steven!
ReplyDeleteCome in and tell me your stories... Very welcoming! But i agree not good for people who are afraid of the dark... Beautiful!
ReplyDeleteJJRod'z
thankyou delwyn!!! steven
ReplyDeletehi weaver! i'm afraid of the dark also. this image is about a benevolent dark that contains all the unlikeliness of this place and from which - like a small ray of light - comes love. steven
ReplyDeletejj - fair and true! perhaps it'll sooth your heart if you read the little unpacking i did for the weaver (just above) steven
ReplyDeleteAll's well that ends well, I guess! And this ends very well.
ReplyDeleteI love this - the picture the words... I just said, "oh yes!" when I finished reading. I love stories :)
ReplyDelete"come in and tell me your story" You are so generous! I would say "get the hell out of my room!" from under the covers. Love is a hurty thing- Advil will do nothing to help, I have already ingested a bottle of it today- it does not alleviate the pain of love.
ReplyDeleteThe music completely overtook me! I even forgot that I was listening to it because I was it!
ReplyDeletedave - it's a place i see as malleable. i appreciate the process so much more at this point than the end game. steven
ReplyDeletelinda sue - it's written in metaphor. i took one advil this morning - the first in two years - it was to manage the headache that came from upper body tension. steven
ReplyDeletethankyou bug! i am who i am and entirely present to the degree i am capable. steven
ReplyDeletei think the ending is wonderful. how many moments are turned when we let loose our fear and let love come in place of it? quite a brilliant way to live, actually.)
ReplyDeletexo
erin