Little Miss Midnight

In the middle of the night, I start writing in my sleep. I dig through the stories buried six feet deep. I slip between the pages of all twenty five books piled by my side, they’re rising like sandcastles reaching for somewhere beyond the sky — perhaps somewhere behind the moon, beyond the rain.* I surrender into these blackish blue hours, letting worries fade faster than winters daylight.

Before long, the words begin to float across the page in unison — like a fleet of tiny ships floating across a sleepy ocean. All night long, under the brightest moon, words glide through my mind like lullabies. I forget the world and its nightmares — and dream on and on about the stories I try desperately to write.

What’s a woman to do, but spend these hours after midnight learning how to fall — by falling up to the sky. I am the nights muse. My lungs are full of flowers and every breath is a lyric that blooms in direct starlight. My soul is a galaxy of infinite life. I am a river of troubled water, overflowing through the dirty streets of a concrete city where pity does not live — and living best lives is a weary myth set against the reality of these 2020 struggle Olympics.

Chronic brokenness of spirit can be resistant to healing — but not immune to it. It’s not a medal I choose to wear. When my heart is a love poem and a song of despair — I know I can’t be pitiful and powerful if I’m going to make it anywhere. Alone at the crossroads, I take a deep breath. Lamenting the loss of what was and facing the unknown seasons of storms to weather — I note the moment as another coming of age.

In the middle of the night, I yield to the breaking — then to the breakthrough. I forget the world as I’m held up by the arms of the sky. I am nowhere but here, I ensconce myself in a midnight meditation. I don’t know tomorrow, but I know I am Friday’s child. I roll like thunder across sky — and time passes me by. I am hypnotised by the night breaking out into stars — like an ode to life emerging from the womb. Starlight passes through my skin, I can no longer tell where the stars end and I begin.

*A quote from the film The Wizard of Oz — said by the character Dorothy (played by Judy Garland) just before she sings the song Somewhere Over the Rainbow.