They are the rainbows of darkness, eerily silent and wavering around the stars. Like watercolors spilling across a black canvas, they crawl along the surface of celestial space; fluid mosaics in the sky. The Northern Lights. Dancing reflections, transparent colors that slowly wash the infinite depths of our universe. Unexpected, rare, and supremely mesmerizing, these natural phenomenons defy the darkness of Earth’s shadow.
I want to see them someday. I will be upon a snowy knoll, alone and enclosed by frosted evergreens.
Puffs of mist roll off my lips with each breath. The night is still and unconscious; life stands frozen in time under the magical powers of spirit and ice. Waiting within frigid branches, wild creatures take on solemn and serene faces. Far away wolves howl in a haunting scale, sending a shiver inside my heart. I look upward and for the first time hear whispers, a voice from the world above of billowing lights. A world above land’s towering trees, glittering icicles, empty breeze, quiet rejection, above the chilly bitterness of gravity.
I hear its echoes of holiness in the sky, see the vibrations of love and truth, passion and pleasure, wisdom and reality, the meaning of every dream. They are the answers, the acceptance, the hope. The lights ebb in and out of the starry darkness, fading and flickering as syllables slapping from my soul’s tongue. I am made whole, by the King of the skies and Messenger of light.
Arctic air suddenly breaks through me, closing the connection and leaving me wide-eyed, stunned. Remember, the colors murmur, remember and return…
I blink in promise. And turn to see the glaring lights of a billboard, cars rushing past, flashy businessmen rushing home on commute. Urban skyscrapers glitter alongside the street, twinkling as human existence ignites and extinguishes inside their walls. The coldness edges away as passerby brush against my sides, I am not alone anymore. I begin the long trek back to the apartment. I won’t forget, I whisper, I will be back.