Journeying Toward Sunrise  (after Diana Khoi Nguyen)

Starting first in numb instinct, we knew only to move forward, always move forward

though no footprints came before ours, no stars could be seen through haze and fog,

not even owls’ hoots or trains’ whistles kept us company.

Still, we trailed, fingers and arms out before us — grasping into the pitch darkness

yet oddly grateful when nothing impeded any progress,

relieved when nothing swooped down.

Sunrise was waiting after all.

Even when we could not see each other, we knew sunrise still existed.

So on we plodded, stumbled, skipped when we could, danced in surprise, then returned to our

instinctive gait: clop clop clop,  muffled shuffles,  silenced footprints sinking deeply into snow.

This is how she found us, warmer from our efforts, finally able to see a destination,

still distanced yet walking together,

stars still in the sky – always above – now revealed

trains and owls breaking the stillness as we now see the trails we’ve been traveling.

Her form in the sound of hushed night, sunrise was waiting to greet us.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Image: Dirk Enwald