Confronted with this fleeting life, aware of my own mortality.
Waves of realization overwhelm me as the future becomes absolute.
Terror, chased away by memories of how you looked when we first met.
That first warm and gentle greeting as your eyes peered into my heart.
Once you weren’t there and then you were; now it is as though you have always been…
… beside me,
… my solitary witness,
… my dear one, my Evey, my love.
Give me another day, another breath, another night.
It will never be enough.
A drunk man sings Bob Marley in the street below while I enjoy a weed high and write bad poetry. A lifetime ago, there would have been tears, but now I feel so much there’s no reaction powerful enough to convey what I’m feeling. I just sit and listen and silently hope that one day the world will remember to love.
The World calls into being Another, one who will live awhile. Who will learn what it’s like to be singing and dancing, to know an embrace made of tears. But also to learn how to dream and to question, to also be peaceful and strong. To learn what is perfect and pure. The world that is hurting, another, another. A gentleness ushers love in. In the cradle of gold light, a Source made of beauty. Another, another, arise. Into forever and beyond all knowing. Beyond, beyond, beyond. All things we know passing. Another is being awakened. A calm wind. A silence. An echo of approaching dark. But there in the dark, a solitary light source. The brief interlude of our waking.