the land of the dead
night falls. stillness descends. leaving my body behind on its bed, I drift up and out into the night air, following the sign of the southern cross.
hovering, uncertain, I await my companions, known and unknown, who will travel with me tonight through this land of the dead, through darkness so deep, it settles like tar on my skin.
blinded, I follow stray rustles of thought, random sighs of wisdom. feeling the space before me with invisible hands, I sense silent guides, beckoning, blinking fireflies on this dark path. restless, shifting shapes emerge from the depths of this underworld.
after trailing many miles through the molten darkness, I see, far ahead, a pinprick of light, a point of arrival. long, dark hours later, dawn breaks.
I drift towards waking. my night companions fade into the lifting shadows, their voices silent, their lessons abandoned to the glare of daylight.