The sun didn’t shine on this your last morn. But the sun has kissed your skin many times and you didn’t wake really, day grew around you as you gently gathered your loved ones and your last breaths, peacefully easing yourself free of pain and discomfort. I have a sense of your particles released, dispersed back into the world, finding your beloved places, nestling near those you love and perhaps those you did not to ever nudge them gently more toward your way. And the spring rains fell, the world crying then smiling and laughing, like the birds dancing in the rain. It was the perfect day for your passing. Death in the face of the bursting beauty of springs rejuvenation as we all imagine you off dancing toward your next adventure.
I had covered my fragility with a skin of stone. Believed that to be needed, was to be loved. That to be compassionate was to avoid causing pain, and therefore meant to deny the self. That to be loyal was to lock away the truth as a secret. That the jewel of my consciousness needed a protector. I wore the future as a brittle crown that cut and bled when I strayed from the path others wished me to walk. The butterfly of my soul flutters incessantly within the labyrinth prison of thought I have bound myself within. But to offer false hope is cruel. Trembling, I sought to open the window to allow my soul back in. Remembering the fall I realise I have allowed devolution to go too far with half-truths and excuses of why fear was too strong. But ascent is still possible. It is absolutely vital and ravenous, I hunger for it.