Darkest Hours

Through the depths of my soul,
there is a child unfulfilled.
Afraid to escape the shadows
clouding his path,
suffering in the corner of silence.

He uncovers his eyes
with rain-showers of tears,
begging to see the light again.
Darkness siphon his weakness
his strength, slowly fading away.

In the distance,
a ball of light spins.
but fear keeps him taped
to the floor
of his mind’s mysteries.

Curious, he lifts his right hand,
sways his fingers through the haze.
The smoke thins
Reforms thicker.
Stealing his breath away.

Panting for air,
he crawls toward the light
confused by the shifting distance,
squinting his eyes
as the mist tightens like a knot.

He presses forward.
The light morphs
now spread wider,
still visible,
a flicker in the fog.

The fortress binds him
to his knees.
Pressure stiffens the joints
from pressed floor panels
But his legs feel alive again.
With growing strength he rises.
Momentum constructs
his motion.

A hand appears
reaching out.
His fingertips, blackened
just beyond his grip.
By smog and sorrow.
Still,
his breath deepens.
His heartbeat breaks
through the barrier
of slow, sorrowful rhythms.
Inhales rebuild the lungs
of his fading temple.

A muffled voice rings
in the drums of his ears
beating life
back into his weary frame.

The light draws near.
Contrast meets contrast
the zero point,
the threshold,
where stillness meets becoming.

Then, two hands
lift his fainted body
from the hollow ground,
wrap him in a warmth
he thought he'd lost forever.

As the blur lifts from his eyes,
he sees a bearded man
with hair reaching toward the sun,
limbs strong as oak and thunder.
The strength of bulls
and a softness in his smile.

He rubs the crust
from his vision,
and the man smiles wide,
cheek to cheek.
His hug transfers energy
back into the soul-space
the dark tried to steal.

Then the man speaks:
Do you know who I am?
No, the boy replies.
Curiosity outshines the eclipse of his mind.

Then God speaks through the man,
Don’t worry, my young friend.
Life gifted you vision
through the buried treasures
of your dreams.

And the man adds,
I am you from the future.
I’ve come with a message:
Transcend beyond
your hurt and struggles.
Even in the chaos,
a new version of us is born.
You still have a journey
before you arrive
where I stand now.
But remember to give yourself grace
and express gratitude
for all that you have.

Go forth.
Live out your dreams.
Remember these words:
You are where you need to be.
Be patient
and witness your seeds blossom.

I am you.
And you are me.
We coexist at the same time
separated only by timelines and possibilities.
This version of me
is your higher self
the light you projected
through thought-made-form.
That's when, present
high fived the future.