It’s 4 a.m. and here I am, awake,

can’t stop thinking, can’t stop fixating,
exhausted, mourning,
ready for my spirit to rise,
wondering what would happen If I could just for one moment stop,
stare,
and be.
Just for a moment.

My heartbeat slows,
I breathe.
Calm.
Grateful.
Beautiful, I am. I close my eyes.
I let myself be.

My gaze rises,
I see a mountain,
a sea,
roses collected from my Grandmother’s garden,
scattered like dust.
I allow myself to be,
just to be.
Simply to give myself an opportunity to be here.
I’ve never been here much.
Distance is something I’ve grown fond of.

I keep being.
Trees begin to surround me.
Forests, so bright and colourful.
Every fall colour.
Leaves fall, and I touch them as they do so.
I feel the roughness and I inhale the damp air.
I look up, the sun shines through the trees.
I feel renewed.
Full of promise and of hope.
Birds chant praises of joy,
of hope, and of life.
Maybe this was made for me.
Maybe not.

I inhale again,
to another place I wander.
I’m in a field,
all too familiar.
Though my heart aches in this place,
I feel calm, and okay.
Corn everywhere.
Row upon row, row upon row.
I run, moving my hands along the rows.
I run.
I feel free.
These prairie fields once so dark,
are now full of light and freedom.

My mind runs into the stars.
I am laying in the field,
looking at the stars,
wondering if dad hears me.
Wondering if he simply packed up and moved to another planet.
Maybe he’s waving at me from the sky.
The wind whispers “I am here. I love you.”
Tears move down my face,
like boulders making there way down the Rockies.
“Dad,” I say. “I love you too.”
It is in this place,
staring at the stars,
that I feel right.

I smile, and laugh.
I feel safe.
I am safe.

I am here. I am present.

I am, I am, I am.

~

Author: Mathew Dueck

Editor: Katarina Tavčar

Photo: Joshua Earl/Unsplash