Process

I.
A flicker of light
Hand over my heart
Hush now,
You’ll be just fine, a whisper said
But it’s a chase against the wind
Like shielding a candle from a snowstorm.


II.
A drop in temperature
Feet moving forward
Just go now
You’ll find your way, the whisper said
But it’s a navigation through a blindfold
Leaving no footsteps behind, with nowhere to go.

III.
A room full of smoke and mirrors
Hands grasping for clues
Be still now
Patience is a virtue, the whisper said
But it’s minutes to midnight
And I can sense no dawn approaching.

Picture by Earth Shots

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4 thoughts on “Process”

  1. Oh I love the intensity of this piece! I felt like it’s threading between desperation and hope. But you know, just because you can’t sense any dawn approaching… it doesn’t mean that it wouldn’t. //just saying.

    1. Yeah, I’m really glad that you caught on that. I wrote this, while trying to portray the delicate balance between a personal struggle, and the quiet attempt to keep the hope alive, however faint it was. And of course, just like what you mentioned: a snowstorm will pass, surely as a dawn would appear.

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