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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item.php/item_id/114653-Transformation
Rated: ASR · Poetry · Arts · #114653
A story about the end of life and the beginning of something else
As each of us grows ever older, we return to our childhood.
We return to the fragility and softness of those early years.
There, if we are lucky and search for it, we will find
The sweet wonder of our growing time and memories
That fill our throats with joy. We will feel again the laughter
And the peace of those distant years.

My ninetieth birthday approaches.
I wearily endure the weight
Of my time and a silence in my heart. I feel the stillness,
But there is not sorrow. I sense quiet, but there is not loneliness.
Withdrawing now from my world, I fold my soul into myself
On this day that is mine, and I hug my aching bones.
I love my life but now life has become a burden
Difficult for old parts to maintain.

As my breathing softens, I hear the calling voice of the stars,
And my being drifts outward, drifts away from the center,
The center of my existence, my world, my body,
Away from this pale planet into distance and darkness
And silent burning stars seen afar.

I am not afraid of this transition, this death. I am content,
Soothed by the warmth and calm of the distant spaces
That now hold and possess me.
In sun brightness and a whirl of gases,
The energy that was me strangely still is me.
I gaze at the universe with newborn awareness
And eyes newly awakened to vastness.
I release the self I have left behind.
I fling my lighter, younger self outward into the darkness.
My questioning voice flies ahead of me.

What wonders wait for me out here?



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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item.php/item_id/114653-Transformation