i do not know

I do not know yet all the things that I am. But what I know for sure is this:

I am the earth. I know this because on a shady afternoon, my legs have become the playground for ants. I don’t know yet all the things that I am, but I know that mine is the light in which the moths choose to dance. I know that the strands of my hair are like the leaves in autumn which shed every day and without warning. I am comforted to know that the same magnesium the makes up the moon is the same thing that makes up my bones and that her familial darkness is a mystery we all want to know. I am assured that the same crazy that I discovered months ago, was found by a Jung man, many many dreams ago. I am comforted by tarot cards and old mythology I take as truth. I am comforted in the texts that remind me, 'no one has it all figured out, always.'

I do not know yet all the thing that I am, but I know that the shadow I cast is just as important as the sun, because sometimes it is only my tears that can provide the shade broken hearts have been searching to sit under. The shadows that let me stand under the shade with others who are also burning in the heat of the light. Some days I am the healer and other days I am the devil’s friend, and I am so so human and am at home on this earth, even while I am miles away from the stars I once called home before. I don’t know yet all the things that I am, but I am convinced I must love the dark and the light in me, because I have discovered that I am the seasons, the moon and the earth. I recognise me in both the plant and its shadow. The autumn and the summer trees, all the birds and all the bees. Even all the while I miss the stars and the monkeys. And I know you miss home too, and have been searching for a little bit of it in other places, under covers with others, in the dark corners in your head, in the basking of the sun, even when you didn’t plan to bask. And that you too cast a shadow wherever you go, no matter what time of the day it is. And that the nighttime provides relief for this, to give your darkness a space to merge with; a space where the shadow is the same colour as the light.

For some days it is the dark that comes for me, but most days it is the dark that comforts me.