"Darkness can be so soothing when you know it won’t last forever; you can slip into shadow as a refuge, especially when the light has been pitiless." (Anne Lamott, Dusk, Night, Dawn)
There is a harshness to the day. A stark contrast. An exposure. Arid and unforgiving. Fifteen degrees warmer than the temperature of the air. The brightness of disappointment in ultraviolet waves. A vitamin that benefits and burns. A bleak and bitter pill.
Blinded by the way things are. Unable to see the way they could be. Atoms turn to ions. A cellular reaction to solar damage. Something lost, something taken, something broken, something knocked loose.
But, just beyond the edge of dusk, the darkness is a place of shelter. Of rhythm and reset. The circadian need to live, to work, to rest, to push against the hurt, to be redeemed. It protects the anticipation of mystery and arrival. It wraps you tightly in silken threads. Gives you time to break apart. To dissolve. To melt down everything that you are. A refuge, a shelter, a changing room, a chrysalis. A safety that whispers the word "soon". It is the chance to be changed, to grow into something with wings, to become something new.
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