When we let go, we leave behind a part of ourselves

yet I do have to wonder if we ever really lose

we certainly sometimes cannot return to the shelves

of who we were, yet perhaps we do sing the blues

~

In that frame of mind, a good song can bring me a tear

where then I feel my heart, that growing ache of loss

is pounding in my chest in such a manner I can often fear

that end result of wondering when love I would then toss

~

aside like a feeling I never really took the time to understand.

If I recall the lives I have encountered in five decades of trying

I sometimes forget there is meaning beyond my own demand,

somewhere in the annals of passing nostalgia I am still crying.

~

There is a constant messsage board in my mind, lays out letters

a sort of visual keyboard, that if I think really hard and long

might shout at me with the reality of who I am, but only utters

soft reminders – there’s never a quiet word of where I belong.

~

last night a distant friend said goodbye to me without having to speak

I simply knew the time was right to realize a shift in parallel thought.

When while I wanted to know more, I couldn’t ask them to seek

me out again, until perhaps some other time when, I might be sought.

~

I do know today when I dance alone in my own little forest of solitude

the rhythm speaks gently to the notion that somewhere, sometime I did

exist, and it was then I could realize with the right sort of gracious attitude

I might somehow conceptualize truth in some new epiphany less sordid.

~

I wonder if when we take that next adventure, we will have a chance

to know that everyone behind us wishes only our soul might advance.