The Muscle Memory of the Soul

The room is the same, but the sight is gone,

The edges are blurred where the day stood strong.

I reach for the wall with a trembling hand,

In a place I once knew, in a familiar land.

The air is heavy, the shadows are deep,

And promises made feel harder to keep.

It’s a fumbling dance, a reach through the air,

A search for the switch that I know is there.

But my feet remember the grain of the floor,

My spirit still knows the frame of the door.

For I am not a stranger, though vision is dim,

I am a child of the House, and I’m walking with Him.

The darkness is hollow, it has no weight,

It cannot alter the path or my state.

The lamp is right where I left it before,

Waiting for touch to open the door.

So I reach through the void, through the hush and the chill,

Knowing the Source is standing there still.

One click of the switch, one breath of the Name,

And the room is alive in the glow of the flame.