~ William Bliss
***
Restlessness prompts a walk at twilight. Stepping out onto the front
porch, I breathe in the fading evening. I set off on a familiar path. I pass by
dimly lit houses, ruby red tinted trees, and glowing street lamps. I walk in
the middle of the street, relishing the sound of my boots clicking against the
pavement. No cars appear; no one interrupts with a hello or neighborly small
talk.
My whispering thoughts are background noise to a present heartache. A
heaviness is here, a heaviness that is not entirely mine, a collection of
stories spoken by loved ones and news reporters. I walk quickly, as if I could
somehow outrun this ache.
Walk with the heartache. Be
present in the discomfort. Breathe.
The moon rises in a grand, slow debut. In the darkening shadows, I’m
tempted to run, carefree and wild down the block. Running may satisfy this
nagging hunger. It’s a hunger that doesn’t want to consume. It’s a soul hunger
eager to give my entire self to a cause, a person, a piece of writing. This
hunger is growing and is becoming a daily presence. It’s manifesting in a
restlessness begging for a short trip, pushing me out to walk alone at
twilight.
I resist the urge to run. I continue to walk and breathe deeply. I
listen for the lesson, for the wise voice to tell me what to do next. I don’t
hear an answer, only the sounds of the falling night. I let myself be restless.
I breathe into the twilight. I notice the appearance of the stars. I embrace
the moment and let the starlight embrace me.