Who?

You sit in the gloom and wonder how you arrived

At this small dark place

You visited before and vowed not to return

The bars at the window, the reinforced door

The bed that you lie on that will never be home

You cover, recover and cover old ground, the stories of your life tapped out

In rhythmic repetition by a familiar key you don’t recognise but fits well in your hand

Over and over the thoughts go around and the feelings, the feelings, the hard tight painful feelings consume you on and on and on in the gloom

The touch of a heartbeat

The whisper of an almost silent sigh

Who is it that hears? Whose attention is drawn for a moment into a ray of life

That lights up, that warms up, that frees up your mind?

It is not who you think you are that hears, that invites the key into the lock that opens the door that no longer exists.

Be still and listen, only listen, for now and here is your everlasting moment unfolding, unfolding

And you wouldn’t want to miss it.