Niðurstaða/Conclusion
As I continued forward in that moment, I looked back and found no need to hold on any tighter. I was already there.
Just as I had seen those I loved become everything they leave behind. Stuck in-between of what I was, what I could be,
I fell in love with my ashes. Holding them as trophies close to my chest.
Forgetting how to live in my rebirth. The cycle of becoming how I died to become me. I found myself present
at the beginning of time when God molded and shaped the land. Running his fingers through thick red clay into crevasses and hidden places.
Keeping the pieces safe until it was time for me to find them.
I walked along a path and saw fragments of another life.
Drift in the wind, slipping between my fingertips and float on the surface of water. Soft wrinkles form from the kiss of a memory landing.
Then I run into an Orange Julius sky and everything the light touches.
