Goodbye

I am at peace.

Life is beautiful; and my life’s eyes, at this moment, in this place, during this time, are looking at autumn, through a blissful, sunlit window, gazing in peace, into the beautiful image of truth.

Truth is what is, not what I hope it was, becomes, has been, should be, would be, or could be…Truth is a waterdrop – simple, undisguised, clear, pristine; Truth is a teardrop - salty with emotion, perhaps sorrow, or happiness.

Truth is not you – a kaleidoscope, a mirage, a mystery.

That window of my past - that open window on the wintry north; that window with broken hinges, its shattered, jagged panes; that window I have failed to fix a hundred times, and yet have kept trying, bleeding to its cuts; ah that window, that harbinger of chilling, nightmare-laden gusts, that robber of my dreams – when betrayed by the clock, by time, by reason, by heart, I’ve shivered tears; and then, in light, that liar window, with its kaleidoscope sun, its charlatan warmth; became bearer of dark, of cold lies, and false hope – that window, today, I slammed shut, I boarded close, I cemented dry. Ah you winter – I will not bathe in your mirage; lie awake in your storm; shiver in your deceiving warmth – enough. no more…

This dawn, deep in the forests of my soul, with the waterdrop, by the stream, to the waterfall, I shed you my last teardrop.

As your gales began, I did not shiver. In your winter, slept, dreaming of autumn.

I woke in peace; with my Gods; my dreams; my songs; my visions; my ambitions; and without you.

I am finally at peace.

Life is beautiful; and my life’s eyes, at this moment, in this place, during this time, are looking at autumn, through a blissful, sunlit window, gazing in peace, into the beautiful image of truth.