There was a voice that called deeply in the night.
There was a thickening of life,
that slowed one's inner thoughts.
There was a suspended pendulum,
that ceased its free swing,
and all at once, it seemed,
there was motion in grief.
There was a single drop of rain, that caught the passing days.
There was a forward movement,
and inside the fray of life,
I could feel a light begin to take shape.
-Rhia Clay