Finding new form through grace ; perhaps that’s the redemption in depression. An existential winter withering away the landscape I’ve come to identify with. I feel my spirit slipping on the icy tarmac, free falling like the snowflakes. Free falling into the formless. I’ve forgotten how that feels. I’ve forgotten how to feel blindly without a prop to delegate the conclusions to. I’ve forgotten the divine in the dark. I’m hurtling through cobwebs of fear, feeling everything I had abandoned. Piercing like icicles. Stopping a heartbeat from my heart.
I’m afraid. And though I’d rather sleep through this, I don’t want fear to be what I see everytime I seek the horizon. I want to find the divine beyond, so that my gaze is free to explore and expand.