I peered into the darkness
through the window, at the night.
Yet nothing manifested beyond
the mirrored, hollowed orbs of my eyes.
I pressed against the liminal pane
searching for what I thought was out of sight.
A birch tree whispered a simple song
cloaked in silver moonlight.
“Your past is more than a dark winged thing,
draped in folds of fear and false perception.
Be unafraid to lose yourself
within or without your own reflection.”
Her wordy, wispy, wisdom
couldn’t quell my trepidation,
but her straggly limb lifted in the wind
as if in invitation.
I held my breath in concentration,
narrowing my gaze once more.
I looked beyond
my ghostly alabaster likeness,
passed my hollowed eyes and saw
nothing but the folds of midnight.
Eternal darkness.
That was all.
The naked bough quivered and shook,
calling me to follow.
I scryed again into my eyes,
those telling orbs so dark and hollow.
Then as my vision adjusted,
beyond the in between of there and here,
I saw all that I had lost,
and all that I held near.
Footprints in the snow-tossed landscape
of loved ones left behind.
Broken bits of clocks and watches,
marking faded memories and lost times.
Calendars blank with torn away pages,
journals filled with unwritten lines.
All of this, both good and bad,
belonged to me. It was all mine.
Every thought I ever thought,
every word I ever spoke,
every nightmare, every dream,
every moment while I slept or woke,
were cast out into the shadows
as far as my eye could see.
No longer blinded by the night,
I saw this landscape was me
And with that thought the moon rose higher
illuminated by the unseen sun,
reminding me that with this vast past,
my life had just begun.
I can stand at window’s edge
and watch it all unfold,
or I can step into the darkness
confident and bold.
My choices aren’t wrong or right,
My choices are just “are,”
born from all of my experiences,
my battles, my healing, my scars.
With that knowledge, I bundled up
against the cold, dark night.
And ventured out into the world
in search of some otherworldly insight.
As my feet crunched along the path
my eyes adjusted to the dark,
I found myself, my goals, and dreams
as I reclaimed my heart.
The birch tree bowed in praise and love.
The moon smiled and glowed.
The shadows stretched, embracing me,
welcoming me home.
I turned to look behind me,
to the window were I once stood.
Beyond the birch my house loomed large,
my haven from the world.
As I peered back through that window,
filled with warmth and light,
I knew that I had more to explore
and that I would be all right.
Janine Phillips
December 31, 2025
Janina Grey 