Posted by: Juliann Budimir | October 28, 2010

Night

What do you want to be?  A question with a million answers or a single one:  me.    Me, only better.  More glamorous, more enticing, more irresistible.  It’s Halloween.  To capture in a dazzling eyeful, that je ne sais quoi, to feel the way I want him to feel about me.  To be the Rose Queen, to be the Nightly News, Sinatra onstage, that ring-a-ding-ding.  I sing songs no one ever hears.  I’ve stopped counting the years. 

Hope is an insomniac, weaving dreams at night.  The horizon of possibility is endless in the dark, imagination gliding effortlessly like a hand across smooth satin sheets.  The cool, damp air is ripe in its fruitfulness as if hanging by the thread of inspiration.  With surroundings suspended, music wafts in the far-off distance, if at all.  Others sleep, but sleep eludes me.  My mind is awhirl with thoughts of things to come, and I wait as if I’ll feel that click at one or two or three.  Why is something new so appealing?  Perhaps it’s someone new we seek.  So many people rushing aimlessly, anonymously through the night like starlight shining on another day.  Will I ever find my way?  I wonder why some pause yet never linger, let alone stay. 

We sit alone in the dark in the obscure solitude of our rooms, screens illuminating our shadowy faces and the softly pulsing hope inside.  How can something so essential to life be so hard to find?  I think, therefore I am resigned to the rule of that dense grey mass at war with the sometimes lively beating of my heart.  It is an art that some have wrought too well, their fleeting joy a costly spell.  By now, the evening’s at its dregs.  I want to kiss the day good-night and leave illusion like an empty glass on the windowsill.

Alight soft night and draw your darkened mantle, cover me in stardust and the most luminous memories of my days.  The promise of dawn awakens soon before me.  I am ready to recoup the joy of a glass half full.  A life half full awaiting the lovely mingling of its other cup.  Glimmering like ripples in reply, we find our fate, our shining star on high.

Juliann Budimir, 2010.  All rights reserved.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Categories

%d bloggers like this: