THE DAWN OF FREEDOM

It happened just as the clock struck midnight.  The very same moment as a rose petal fell from its bloom in solitary surrender, signalling the end of its tenure. 

My eyes strained to look through the darkened window, hoping for a glimpse of car headlights and the voice of my Deliverer calling out.

Time moves slowly and I long for it to pass. 

I sit motionless, reflecting on the bruised petal now fallen from grace and discarded.  It was exactly how I felt.  Once so much part of life, vibrant and blooming, gathered up in a heady scent of togetherness. Now merely a remnant of what was – soon to be swept away, dust in the passage of time. 

Many in this place are fearful, not daring to step out, not daring to look up.  Their heads bowed in meek submission, used and abused, all the fight and faith bleached out of them.

They have become invisible.

I finger the thorns of the lack-lustre flower, surprised that they still bite and hurt.  Surely I was numb and unfeeling by now. The heads of other neglected blooms droop in sympathy. 

I withdraw my hand and soothe the sore place with my tongue, remembering the barbed comments that had torn into my dreams, stripped me of self worth and disabled me.  The pointing finger of blame that had brought me to this very shadow of myself.  The room is full of shadows, full of shame, yet the emptiness is overwhelming.

I grab the entire bouquet, vase and all, flinging it to the floor.  I trample on it all, the apology of the offering cutting like glass into my soul.  The promises are as many and as broken as the shards on the floor.   How meaningless.  What a fool to think that things would change, that flowers would last forever.

The window, now free of its dying blossoms, draws my eye and through it, coming ever closer is the realisation that it is truly over.  I have dared to overcome the darkest night of my soul.  My tears pick up the light of My Rescue.  I am saved.  I am freed.