Ode to an Ending

It is time to let go,
Let go of all around me,
Let go of the pull such things may have,
And just let them be.

As setting suns betray the day,
I can hear the foundation of my life cracking around me,
The stones, they fall into the sea
With a splash that resounds in the endless night.

You are but the sand for which I built this foundation,
The rock of salt for which there is no steadfastness,
The time of day for which there is no reply,
Just the memory that seems to say “all things must die”.

There are no hands reaching out to save me,
There are no outstretched arms to comfort me,
Just the unending need to leave behind,
Those things that left me behind long ago.

So, plead not my self,
Nor plead for that which will not come,
Seek solace in the loneliness from whence you came,
And in the solitude for which you are heading.

Do not feel distant my being,
Nor find distance from that pain that sees you alive,
Find comfort in knowing that these things, as all things,
Are but temporary in the moment they are conceived.

For now walk alone with those around you,
Seek to play the tune in which they seek comfort,
And bide the time to bid them farewell,
As they have bid you farewell long ago.

Do not find pain in their ignorance of you,
Nor fall for tricks found in their phony words of love,
Stay true to that which brought you here,
That trust that all things are as they must be.

At last the suns betray this cold night,
A warmer day may appear upon the horizon,
Or a colder blast from that which all things come,
Or from which all things find a reality.

For memories that find themselves in the Now,
Shall die before they take root in the making,
Unless it is me that gives them time to be
Anything other that what they where.

And as I pause to take note of the essence of what is now,
I bask in the glow of knowing such things are in passing,
That the suns shall surely betray this day as well,
And that yet another rock shall crumble into the sea.

But for now I will savor such absence,
Of a caring hand, a loving embrace, a tender kiss,
And know that this rock too shall fall,
Perhaps in the absence .

Such is the ode to an ending,
A cause not withered by time or dreams
But born in them beyond our control,
And to that birth I remain so betrayed.


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