There are rare times when I feel like I can be myself, unedited. Some of my most real moments are in the quiet of night, when darkness enfolds me in a sense of freedom rarely found during the day.
What a gift, to let down the mask, to give up trying to be anything other than me...
But it doesn't last. And I have to don my armour again, watch what I say, watch what I do. Meanwhile, my heart beats at the cage, wanting to fly. Liberation is a fleeting thing.
photo: Clayton Caldwell/Unsplash
The Promise of the Night
In the wee hours of the morn
Defenses fall away.
Pretense fades into star-specked black
Overcome by Night’s majesty.
Truth stretches out
Seduced by a taste of freedom,
Naked in a fleeting sense of safety
That dissolves with the dawn.
But the sun burns.
Layers of protection must be retrieved,
Picked up off the floor for
Fear of being seen.
Judging eyes replace the
Serenity of the stars.
Responsibility invades.
Night’s freedom melts away.
Truth, still naked beneath the façade,
Clings to sparkling memories.
But hope suffocates beneath the demands of the day,
And sleep steals the promise of the night.
Original writing by Katrina Ariel.
Sorry if this one is bittersweet. I'll get back to my usual uplifting posts shortly. ;)
Take care of yourself, you are a gift!
Peace. @katrina-ariel
Author bio: Katrina Ariel is an old-soul rebel, musician, tree-hugging yogini, and mama bear to twins. Author of Yoga for Dragon Riders (non-fiction) and Wild Horse Heart (romance), she's another free-spirit swimming in the ocean of Steem.
dragon art: Liiga Smilshkalne
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