Grace

Daylight tricks you into thinking what you see is truth, lets you go through life thinking you know everything. But the truth is we are sleepwalkers. We walk through the night that is chaos and dark and forever keeps its truth to itself.

The sea in the distance opening a doorway. Familiar faces turning in half-light and sounds of speech and the way that each body moves uniquely in memory, each memory rising in its own kinked light that is seen briefly but not held, each memory breaking like surf one wave over the other leaving a wash of emptiness.

Freedom is your soul in the emptiness of night. Freedom is this dark that is as great as what it holds the stars and everything beneath it and yet how it seems to be nothing, has no beginning, no end, and no center.

Did you hear the one about the old crow that slept in the eagle’s nest? Twas the coldest of nights and the crow was fed up with the constant chill. So he takes to a nest that is not his own

So this is what freedom is, she thinks. Freedom is when you are free to disappear off the earth without anybody knowing. Freedom is your soul in the emptiness of night. Freedom is this dark that is as great as what holds the stars and everything beneath it and yet how it seems to be nothing, has no beginning, no end, and no center. Daylight tricks you into thinking what you see is the truth, lets you go through life thinking you know everything. But the truth is we are sleepwalkers. We walk through night that is chaos and dark and forever keeps its truth to itself.

The land near treeless and how it sends thought shooting in every direction.