Moving On

für eine Lotusblume

you met a girl,
you fell in love,

you found your muse,
you chased the moon
and stemmed time’s tide
to be with her.

you wrestled your doubts,
banished your fear,
quaked at your insecurity,
cried at your inadequacy,
laughed at your paranoia,
trembled at the first thought of the end
and every thought thereafter.

you lost yourself,
blinded yourself to the truth
knocking on your door —
all for the sake of her happiness,
all for the sake of your dream —

you banished it over the horizon’s edge
to keep your dream safe,
to lock the gate on your garden,
to drive off the brewing tempests of worry,
to keep the braying beasts of burden at bay.

you stopped listening to the voice inside,
the eternal guide,
the boundless Now,
the mystic It,
the forgotten sage,
the beginingless Truth,
the answer you already knew.

you loved her more than the golden silence,
more than the rising chorus at dawn,
more than the rose pink sunset,
more than the treasures of day,
more than the hidden jewels of night,
more than dancing in a sudden rain,
more than chasing pagan reveries in ancient woods,
more than watching ripples on a lake disappear,
more than your shadows playing in firelight,
more than the silent whispers you shared in the night,
more than the warmth of her queen-size bed,
more than her tender soft embrace,
more than the deep rhythm of her heartbeat,
more than morning’s silent routine,
banana pancakes and the aroma of fresh coffee,
more than the bouquets that blossomed and died,
more than the senseless miniature wars,
more than the meaningless passionate ire,
more than the pain she carried in her girlish heart,
more than the tears that fell upon her pillow,
more than the vision of your love burned into a pile of ashes,
more than the unfaltering principles of the cosmos,
more than the quiet wisdom of the void,
more than the endless light of the Buddha Mind,
more than the stories yet untold,
more than the dreams yet undreamed,
more than the inklings soon forgotten,
more than the plans still unrealised,
more than your undeserving self,
more than your constellated selves,
more than your peace of mind,
more than peace in your heart,
more than the breath of renewal,
more than your solitude.

you fell in love,
but did you love yourself?

now you’re alone
and your loneliness is a millstone
and your neck is bent and broken
and your heart is battered and bruised
and your faith is slightly shaken
and hope seems sometimes to be in exodus
and yet you know
don’t you?
that tomorrow a new dawn rises
for you, for her.

everything will be alright,
people always pull through;
yours isn’t the first forever
to end prematurely;
yours isn’t the first union to break apart,
the first love bound to anicca;
yours aren’t the only fragile hearts left
temporarily more fragile than before.

the dream is over —
she wasn’t the missing piece,
she wasn’t the answer to a million riddles,
she wasn’t the other shore,
she never was the one —
just a companion on your journey.

and she certainly loves you
and she certainly misses you,
she longs to turn back time too.

she wishes things had been easier,
she can’t forget the happiest moments either,
she curses the cruel world too.

she pines for your presence,
an arm around her shoulder,
a kiss at the door,
the names you made for her,
the vibrations of your voice,
the way you said ‘my love’,
the company of your snores,
your stories and lessons,

your surreal dreams,
your compliments and affections,
the soft gaze of your loving eyes,
the way it made her feel
when she saw how she mesmerised you.

she’s moving on.

she must,
just like you.

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