Photo credit: earl53 from morguefile.com |
Some of us are leaving now.
Some of us have done our time.
Some of us were taller candles and had more burning to do.
"Poof," you said, and it was true, "Poof."
Maybe we loved you, but not always.
Maybe you loved us and it will never be done.
We're finished now with lost keys, the dust
of teeth grindings milled mostly at night.
The shimmering is falling off your names and the names
of things, the pots, the colors, the books that fed us.
Whatever language we take with us—the murmur
of flowers fallen face down in the mud, the drink's ice
chinking to seal the sunset, the exhalations at the end
of circling a place to lie down a dog makes, lying down—
think of it as one day coming back to you
in the rain's slow trickle down panes of glass.
Now, please. Let us go
like a meadow of balloons let loose to the sky.
~ Barbara Ras
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It's wonderful to climb the liquid mountains of the sky. Behind me and before me is God and I have no fears.
~ Helen Keller
~ Helen Keller
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