When the final curtain softly descends, and the echoes of my days retreat
When the final curtain softly descends, and the echoes of my days retreat,
I want to whisper to the wind that all my life, I was a bride betrothed to amazement,
In the silent embrace of dawn's first light and the whispered secrets of twilight.
I was the bridegroom, holding the world in my eager arms, feeling its heartbeat in my own.
Each breath, a vow to wonder, each heartbeat a promise to the extraordinary,
For in the tapestry of existence, I wove dreams with threads of stardust and sighs.
As the sun rose and set, its golden rays caressed the earth, so did my love for the marvels of this world unfold,
With eyes wide open in the innocence of eternal curiosity, heart open to the embrace of mystery.
When the journey reaches its final bend, I don’t want to wonder if my life bore significance,
But to know, in the marrow of my being, that I was in constant communion with the sublime.
I walked through gardens of amazement, each flower a testament to the fire within,
For I did not merely traverse; I danced, I sang, I wept, I rejoiced with every fiber of my soul.
I do not want to end this symphony of existence with a sigh of regret or a tremor of fear,
Nor do I want to be caught in the web of endless arguments, a mind at war with itself.
Instead, let my spirit rise with the dawn, unburdened and weightless, free as the first breath of spring,
Having lived not as a mere visitor to this world, but as an integral note in its eternal song.
When it’s over, let me be a testament to the beauty of living fully, of loving passionately,
For I was the bride to amazement, wed to the miracles both mundane and profound.
I was the bridegroom, embracing the world with unwavering devotion,
Let my legacy be one of soulful engagement, where every moment was kissed by the lips of wonder.
In the twilight of reflection, amidst the gathering shadows of memory,
Let me know that I did not squander the gift of existence, nor did I shy away from its relentless grace.
Let the stars write my story on the celestial dome, a tale of passion and serene acceptance,
For I was here, not as a passerby, but as one who lived, truly lived, in the arms of amazement.
Copyright ©
Dan Enache
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