your last days

You just aren’t ready to release me.
You aren’t ready to say goodbye.
I walk between your grey sky and damp earth
as the wind nips at my bare cheeks
reminding me that you are still here.

Your heaviness penetrates through the walls I put up.
Even now — especially now —
as I look to the horizon,
to see the Sun beam and shine,
your piercing cold keeps me guarded.

But there is hope in truth.
The Earth twirls and spins through Space —
with her the dances of Life.
You know your time is coming.
You, like your siblings, will rest until you’re called again.

Perhaps it is my folly for wishing you away.
What can I learn from your farewell?
In this moment of transition wherein I often fall apart,
strive to remain here — present, rooted, all.
Only through change can I grow.