An Unexpected Ending

The End

did not come 

with a big bang, 

a loud clanging, or alarms sounding. 

It did not come with exclamations,

was not followed by echoes of indignation. 

The End 

did not come 

with tornadic force

did not take 

a dramatic course. 

It did not fill you up with rage;

you did not cry out, react or engage

in theatrics as you might have expected. 

It came quietly and slowly,

was punctuated only with two last cups

of coffee touching, like two purring cats,

with quiet murmurings of mutual understanding, 

with long pauses and silent looks held too long. 

It came like the very slow dwindling

of a favorite sad song. 

And then it was over,

and the two cups were one again;

not a multiplication, but subtraction and division.

And it was quiet.

And it was (almost, nearly) okay.

And it was very simply, just

The End. 

Good Cry

Don't be

afraid

to have a life emergency

to live your life with urgency

to be 

big

for yourself

to be love, uninterrupted

to have it on authority

that your light is 

always in the majority, uncontested. 

No, don't

daughter, don't be

afraid.

But if you are,

then go ahead,

and have yourself,

for yourself,

a really good,

good cry. 

Ex Pedite

I freed myself from the footpath:

the old neural pathways remembered,

they had to be interrupted;

new paths formed, 

clearing back the old brush and bracken,

the entanglements perpetually beckoning.

I freed myself but found

that the path was a traffic loop,

the signs all there.

And the breaking away,

the bracken brushed away,

was a practice not unlike 

a new kind of breathing.