You began to grow hazy
At the edge of my memory,
Sharpening your knife
On the spinning wheel of my mind.
You took my foggy view
Folding to make some clarity
Shouting words unkind
About different timelines unexplored
Involving strange knots in ropes
Involving headstones with your name.
I lied to you that day,
Left letters unsent, clinging to my tongue
Like bungee jumpers that
Can’t trust the harness won’t
Stretch into oblivion.
I was so shaken by your absence
I couldn’t tell you the truth
So I said nothing at all for months.
I left letters unsent
Words blurred on tear soaked pages.
I grew past you in a year
Like a bamboo grows past an oak,
Me young and strong, sprouting suddenly
You old and creased and resonating
Of my childhood forests
Where we’d collect the biggest leaves.
Now I can see you were
Marred from the start
With regrets running so deep
As to be confused with roots.
You were small and passionate
And you made human mistakes,
I’m strong now,
Like a plant forced to climb
The cracks in the sidewalk.
Stronger for it
And marked by it.
The letters are burned now
And we can embrace again
Though I still get confused
Whether I’m looking up at you
Down at you
Or if we’re at last on level ground.
– Vagabond Prophet
Thanks @josy57 for prompting me with “letters unsent.”
Vagabond Prophet 