Needless Worries

 

These are real words.

Words of hope.

Words of truth.

Words that many of you –

already know –

but may not admit.

Or even realize.

 

I am.

 

But who are we?

 

I am but words –

fogged mirrors of feel.

 

Feel.

The first and final chapters of ours.

 

What is this feel?

We take for so free?

This long, grinding war.

The longest war ever waged –

all for the right to complain.

And try to explain.

 

We fought against all odds –

all cosmic odds.

We climbed and clawed,

so now we complain,

and wonder, “Why?”

As if that’s some question

worth our wonder

after all these long years.

 

Billions of years.

Trillions of deaths.

All so we could be free.

Free from the dust.

Free from the waves.

Free from the worms

from who we once were,

and someday shall be.

 

Poor Shakespearean hearts:

remembered of

until that age

when all burns,

as all has, does and shall,

and then shall fade

back to dust.

 

Dust scattered on celestial plains.

Chilled, airless fields

of nighttime’s long night

in that endless abyss.

 

And as our dust descends

we’ll see them again –

those winks of hope

that twinkle and shine

like our hearts once did,

And still glow now.

 

To the last heart,

who hears me (these words):

 

It’s okay.

We feel.

We’re here with you now.

We’re here in the ash

that once gave you warmth.

We’re here in your waves,

your worms,

your air that you breathed.

 

We’re here with you now –

in your hearts,

as we gaze long ahead,

ready to watch

those nighttime winks

that twinkle on,

and then out.

All back to dust once again.

 

But have no fear.

We are here with you now.

We still feel.

 

I swear we still feel.

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