The warm breezes have given way to chilled winter air
And the sky is now dark, exposed to the rawness of space.
Standing upright in an open field surrounded by the rustling of leaves,
I feel what I have become.
My canvas shoes and hooded brown sweatshirt define me,
And cold gusts run through my ever-lengthening hair as I look up at reality.
My eyes have gone from ocean blue to pale gray—no doubt an adaptive camouflage,
Just as my body has become tough and resilient.
My hands have changed to survive in the emptiness,
The once soft skin replaced with rough calices and strengthened digits.
Continuing my search through the cosmos,
I consider what it is to which I’ve adapted, and find what I’ve been looking for.
Only in darkness can reality be seen.
Light is a disguise, and daytime is for the dreamers.