Sunset

This poem is based on an old article, which I originally posted in 2019. It always felt like it wanted to be a poem.

“Ok,

Let go.”

I looked into his eyes. They were warm, and fatherly.

And playful. And sad.

I saw clouds across a blue sky,

And walks in the late afternoon,

When he had said, suddenly, “No, let’s go this way.”

And so we did.

I saw the glistening shine of his old tears

That hadn’t fully dried.

I saw the sunset.

I smiled,

And he smiled back.

We caught that same breath of wind together, for a moment,

And it was laughter.

And all of a sudden,

In that spark of sunlight just before the horizon,

There was not grief, but gratitude.

Letting go was a white bird, opening her wings:

Not painful, not full of questions; just simple, and easy. 

I released his hand,

And felt a wonderful warmth. 

I felt honored to have shared this fleeting beam of light that caught us two.

It made so much sense, just at that moment.

I wonder if the real sting of separation

Is the fear that I did not give myself wholly

When I had the chance: 

Was it real? 

Was I truly there? 

Did we really share ourselves, and each other? 

Did I open my heart entirely in the exchange,

So that no drop of blood was spared,

And nothing was left on the bare leather

That could be pointed at to say,

“That used to shine, but now it’s dry”? 

Did I put my whole life on the line before I died?

And how ironic it is… 

That I avoided love for so long

Because I was afraid to lose it… 

When loving wholeheartedly would seem – 

Now – 

The only way to bear – 

Eventually – 

Truly, gratefully, letting go.