Monica Rhodes - April's Threshold

(Verse 1)
I remember the ceiling, that clinical white
The flickering hum of a fluorescent light
My breath was a secret I couldn't quite keep
It was the end of March, and the winter was deep.
I was letting go of the world, like lace and old dreams
As the frozen days drifted in silver-grey streams
I was light as the dust, I was thin as the haze
When I felt the rhythm of your steady gaze.
(Verse 2)
Then came the silence where my strength used to be
My legs were like anchors, drifting at sea.
The static was heavy, the feeling was gone
A map with no roads to the breaking of dawn.
I was a ghost in a gown, forgotten and still
Waiting for ghost-limbs to follow my will.
But you stood in the doorway, a shadow in blue
And promised the earth would feel solid and new.
(Chorus)
So I’m lifting this glass to the scrubs and the stains
To the coffee-stained nights and the blood in the veins
To the hands in the rain, to the hearts on the line
To the strength that was born in a white hallway shrine.
No cinematic entrance, no gold-braided shields
Just you and the ghost of the fear that I feel.
No stars on your shoulders, no fame for the light
Just the quietest way that you pulled me from night.
(Bridge - Learning to Walk Again)
And they won’t write your name in the morning news
They won’t see the salt on your tired-out shoes
Or how you held my weight when I couldn't stand tall
Teaching me gravity, catching my fall.
One trembling step on the cold, linoleum floor
Like a child finding keys to a long-locked door.
You’re not a god, you’re just a heart in a vest
Helping me pass this terrifying test.