The Light in the Dark
In the hush between midnight and memory,
I drift—untethered, yet bound by the weight
Of an anchor, cold and silent, at my ankle,
Sinking me softly into an ocean of night.
The water is velvet, the darkness complete,
Yet I dream, I wander, I hope—
For above, far above where the moon used to be,
A single light burns, unshaken, remote.
I reach, as if my arms were made of longing,
Straining past shadows, through currents that pull,
Eyes fixed on that distant illumination—
A promise, a beacon, a fragment of soul.
Sometimes I wonder if the night will claim me,
If the anchor’s embrace will become all I know,
But even as I sink, hope floats beside me—
Whispering, “Rise. Let the light make you whole.”
For the light in the dark is the dream I keep chasing,
A shimmer that breaks through the black of the deep,
And though I am heavy with sorrow and waiting,
I reach for the light—and the light reaches me.
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