#notemples

Each day, new flowers bloom — around me, within me, wherever I go.

Birds are singing in tones I’ve never heard, a dawn of spring in the place I now call home.

My rules are open doors: to dance, to joy, to the laughter I never knew with you.

You made me a watcher of wings, told me the sacred must stay untouched, that distance was devotion.

But no longer — I walk my own path, freely, into the places I have never been.

She walks away from me — nothing left behind, no thing I could touch, hear, or feel. She moves within her circle, behind doors I no longer open, walking in the other direction.

I think she will not understand why I am gone, why I am tired.

The circle is hers — a closed reality, and me, already gone.