A flickering light,
a diminishing flame

Reaching for the skies
as the wick
dies down,
curling inwards,
imploding

The end of the end of the end.

You see, the light needs to die before it can be reborn. That is what it does. That is what light is. Swallowed by darkness it hides underneath the ground. Germinates. Sprouts.

The darkness cannot be fought. It needs space. It needs to be given space.

You see, eventually darkness will feel so alone that it can do nothing but invite light in. Make space for it. Dance with it. Live with it. Mix with it. Mingle.

The light needs to die to be re-born. Darkness is the space where the light grows. Without darkness, no rest. Without rest, no movement.

You see, flow is what happens in the space between two points, two destinations. Music is what happens in the space between two notes.

Darkness. Space. Movement. Light.

Author: Cecilia Götherström/Pejuta Wakinyazi