To the End of a Season
To the end of a season
once so full of questions and experiences denied and unsought.
Open minded souls
might relish this paradox of a life giving way openly to steps of death.
Silent, quiet passing, nothing left,
full yet without words, as all has been said.
Understanding silently within
that it is but a passage through time
from the physical to the spiritual.
To those of us left behind,
who must remain,
it is full of pain, tears and heartache.
Solace and comfort
come reluctantly, empty gestures
that cannot fill the void.
A space lies forever here
wide and open hearts, holding on and letting go
somewhere wavering in between living and dying.
Just in time
a season passes
from then to now as the door closes.
To the end of living
to the beginning of dying
in solitary unspeakable aloneness
brings us
to the end of a season.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
