Flying off the Rails

What cannot be but still is. What do you call that? How do you manage to go on?

Does it matter?

In the stillness it rests, ages, matures.

Meanwhile she learns more about …her. Her own wounds, her own pain, her own flaws. Learns. Breaks down. Discovers healing. Two steps forward, one back. Ten beyond, thirteen in reverse. Finally launching forward. Not with explosivity but a slow, sturdy momentum. A train that cannot be stopped. With each pump of the piston, wheels flow forward.

Without destination but trust in the rails, heading towards a future and a hope. Each mile, each state, she sheds her scars her fears her uncertainties her missteps. Standing taller in her own being. Crutches on the world dissolve. A new internal frame with a Holy Spirit foundation. Each dark tunnel opens to a new expanse. Night terrors dissipate, all that’s left are dreams of delight. The creative within grows bigger and brighter.

Can trains grow wings? Does it matter?

She does.

Light as a feather she floats into the wind. Not pushed or pulled. No. Spirit steers this starship. Into the overcast, through the atmosphere, into a new, different, darkness.

Illuminating the universe, she flies.