Do you remember the day your soul was born?
How it squirmed into being with the fresh glow of a baby sun, delighted by its own brightness. Onlookers knelt at your feet, awed by your delicate brilliance; enthroned you in the kingdom of the stars. They promised to worship you, expecting only endless light in return.
But even the master of the skies grows tired. So against their order, you laid to rest, if only for awhile, in the bed beyond the horizon of the kingdom walls.
When the night came, the city of your mind was painted red. The demons and hooligans of great expectations came to ransack your heart, smashing windows and flipping cars, hungry for the source of your flame. They robbed you of your own blood, smeared it across the brick and mortar of your foundations. Betrayed, you cried a thousand meteorite showers.
That’s how I found you: My dark sky washed with the broken radiance of shooting stars. The rolling hills of my spirit sprinkled with the remnants of your stardust.
Still I was afraid to hold you, to cradle the radiance of your celestial being, my embrace jagged as the Grand Canyon. My once youthful body was eroded, weathered, exposed by the carelessness of former inhabitants. My skin, scarred with the fractures and fault lines of self-destruction. The cadence of my heartbeat, once the gentle drum of waves on a beach, now created only earthquakes and tempests.
That’s how you found me. You, being the first star who dared to abandon the lofty sky; falling into me, an act of joyful surrender.
Brushing your fingers across my mountains and valleys with the lightest glimmer of renewed hope.