Floating on the water, staring at the sky above. Below me is the deep dark depths of a world full of unknown.
I float ever so carefully, clutching the chain of the anchor that keeps me from floating away. The sky is vast and deep blue, the eyes of the stars twinkling above me, like fairy lights in the summer time.
They are warm and familiar, comforting against the cold at my back. A slight breeze ruffles my hair, warm fingers that fill me with hope that the worst is over and done. A deep breath of the briny air, and I paddle to stay above the water line.
I know I can continue swimming until my heart gives out and the breath escapes my lips one final time. I reach to hold the stars in my arms, cradling them close to my heart.
As long as the stars stay lit I can live with a light heart, even if the worst had yet to come.
YOU ARE READING
Moving the Mountains
PoetryPoetry used to bring down countries and inspire artists and break and win over hearts. This poetry is meant for the same fate, if only one truly decides to read it.
