It means to be among the glassy stones that make up their mosaic foundation. Yet the very likeliness of being forgotten – my words, my breath will wisp away, evaporate. It means to be okay with that. To want that. For the truths they encounter Tomorrow will be clearer, sweeter, more profound. We are done. Good and faithful servant.
Let them go.
Let them soar.
It means to look up to that swallow. To when it sings its little heart out and when it perches in silence, head cocked and listening. It means to be like that brown bird. For my words too can be sung or swallowed. Battles can be chosen. Wounds can be left.
We can heal.
It means to walk along the beach with you, our feet stepping over those stony shells that make us grit our teeth and grin. We sit on the boulders, our laughter swaying in the sea breeze until the sun sets. Then we part our ways. We must.
In order that we may embrace again.