My soul is like the sky outside- gray and flat and still.
The trees beneath my pale complexion stretch their limbs in my direction.
Pleading me to break.
Petitioning my surrender.
There is light you see, such light hidden behind this wall of monochromatic malaise.
It is patiently waiting.
Quiet and content.
It does not need my permission to 'be' it already is.
But it will wait, for as long as it takes.
For me to acknowledge its truth and presence.
Only then will I know, the warmth of its glow.
Only then will the trees sway and sing.
For my soul will be, as it was meant to be- full of light, fully me.
*I wrote this after a conversation with someone very close to me who is experiencing a hardship of the soul. If you are in a similar place my heart goes out to you, you are not alone.