Pinpricks

Every little pinprick in the fabric of the sky,

each distant star sewn into the veil of night

portraying how beautiful it can be to dream

yet how impossible, dreams are to grasp.

 

Still, we gaze into those ink-black skies

awestruck by the majesty of the universe

small; almost insignificant by comparison,

yet we weigh our tiny, whimsical dreams against the stars.

 

-Like we were miniature gods

that we could command this night

to fulfil our deepest wishes

simply by turning our eyes to the heavens and praying.

 

Praying,

for what we believe, we deserve

greedy enough to believe

that the night owes us our day.

Grace in Surrender

I lost my naivety

learned what it meant to fall

from the dizzy heights of innocence

to no longer be blind.

 

too wise before my time

I lost my sense of danger

as I tied myself to the railway line.

 

The oncoming train

the reality I never anticipated

slammed on its brakes to spare me knowing

what it would be like not to feel

my heartbeat,

but

 

for the rest of my days

I had wasted my prettiest years

on tears, born out of wanderlust.

 

I had wasted my breath

whispering into the night

lost in fantasy world

with no hope of mending

such fractured dreams, and

 

I’m a burnt-out shell of a former grace

with the truth etched on my face

I’m a disgrace but isn’t everyone

I know.

 

Now I’m scared of everything

and I think too much, too often

as do you and so does everyone

I know.

 

Maybe there’s grace in surrender

grace in hindsight

grace in surrender to next time around

grace in surrender to being still after all

grace in surrender to the fall.