You live differently when you’re dead:
A friend, a wedding ring, family, your body;
hatched into dust.
Love, enclosed in the grave
of your open heart,
fragile in memory, like the moments
you collapsed crying, into a beloved’s arms.
The world lured itself to you.
A rebirth vision unglued your eyelids.
Allow yourself to see life
as an evergreen playground.
Water the roots, let yourself grow,
absorb the minutes with passion,
feel them dissolve in the changeless past
through the ticking sound of a longcase clock.
The older the years, the quicker time passes,
the more frightening silence gets,
as beat by beat, the heart
exhausts its breath.
Then history builds itself again
and creates another bridge for you to cross.
One stone after another,
you learn to reinvent,
you learn to surrender.
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