In Darkness My Heart Breathes

I hurry through the warmth of the day to reach the night’s cool solace. In the exhalation of the tired sun over the earth’s dusty horizon, as gray shadows deepen into the long evening hours, as bright stars and planets appear in the clarity of the cobalt night air, I let go of all the chores that did not get done.

Leaning back on the porch, I feel the heat of the day dissipate, hear the steady rhythm of the Earth, and let the pace of my heart slow to match its pace. I listen to the river flow across the land and drift against distant cosmic shores. I listen to the weary, hopeful voices of people in my neighborhood sharing their day with each other, and, one by one, as they turn in to rest.

When the world has quieted, I think about all the people I’ve loved who have died. I tell their stories to my heart so that it doesn’t forget. I also feel the presence of people whose stories I’ve read, those who have been pushed to the side and marginalized—the abandoned, the abused, the unloved and hungry, the suffering, the grieving, and those who feel alone. Their stories crowd my porch with presence. Here there is hope, and community, and strength, and endurance. I celebrate their courage this evening.

Tomorrow we will rise and continue to share our stories with all who will listen. We will be seen and heard, perhaps for the first time. To all of this I say Yes.