The last meal is put away



The sad songs are finished,

How grateful I am for the silence!

The clothes are packed

And the mathoms given away

The rooms gape empty, bereft of their souls.



Out the window I see flowers bend in a breeze

Whose end I will never see.

The apple tree will blossom

And be laden with fruit

I will never eat.

And my feet will not trod this ground again

The walls beneath my hands,

They speak and breathe

Of all our joys and sorrows.

Echoes of smiles

Of loud laughter

And silent sighs

Bright eyes

And so much love.



My feet slap the floor in constant farewell.

As I move through a sea of memories:

A map

A pipe

A journal.

I pause a moment and stare

At the simple hearth rug before the cold fire

Where all had begun.

No fear, no drama,

Just the desire to do as my heart bid

And the roads discovered there were long and dark,

though friends burned brightly along the way

And Sam, ever the reminder, the heart of why I

Made such a perilous choice.

But now, I leave again

For the last time

But not to fear or uncertainty

But to rest and glory perhaps.

To sail away

And leave what I saved

To be whole

And peaceful again

As I may be.