The Nature of Things

                                      First published on Rebelle Society

The great eye of heaven

hides behind clouds

not on purpose.

This is the nature of things,

change.

Like leaves

kamikaze

brave,

helpless to their fate.

They adorn

the mighty oak

unconditional

with beauteous wonder

tresses of hair

every hue imaginable

an Autumnal bridal gown

only to one day

be let loose

without warning,

arms outstretched,

wailing for one last embrace,

before flailing through the sky

relentless,

tumbling within the fierce wind,

once recognizable,

once friendly,

once home

landing upon pastures

foreign to them

left in the wild of this world

to converse among blades of grass

and finding nothing

but incessant

chatter.

And the morning dew

once refreshing

turned to frost

unannounced,

unplanned for,

and breath

turned to smoke

in the crisp cool dawn

once warm,

inviting,

safe,

once loving.

And words

now fall flat

upon lips

that no longer yearn

for a kiss,

so utterly precious

and eyes

no longer view beauty

once divinely adored

by sight

and the heart hardens

to ego

and begins to close

when one ceases

adoring

the sun rising

everyday

just for them.

And it makes one wonder

if the mighty oak

feels any emotion at all.

For actions are louder than words,

silence shows disinterest,

and apology —

after repeated apology —

now means nearly

nothing.

I told you this would happen.

You smiled and laughed

said “There’s no possible way”

as you stared at me,

staring at you,

lovingly

and you liked that

and I smiled back

knowing the truth

yet to pass

my chest

full

my heart

pounding

trying not to

cry

I smiled

because you needed me to be strong

and I was a pillar

like now

spitting out bits of blood and bone meal marrow

seeping from the tips of fingers

that write words

beautiful,

like you

but you threw me away

like some secondhand

thrift shop

used shoes

human

being

with

a

heart

and it has taken me a long time

to accept this absurd existence

I have chosen for myself

but you threw me away

and I kneel under this dank, grey skyline

hovering upon the Eastern shore

palms raised

lined, in supplication.

These weary hands of mine

writing words such as this

to deaf ears,

to blind eyes,

to uncaring hearts,

to the bleeding mouths of those who suffer.

Yet, I rise

because

I am love,

I rise

because

I am free,

I rise

because I am

different.

And I rise

like the sun,

and rise

like constellations,

and rise

like mountains echoing time

after time,

that the sky

is

crying

thunder,

again.

You see,

you once saw,

like the others.

Yet, you threw me away.

Like seasons,

change,

is the nature of things.

I have been letting you go

for months

and

you

cannot

even

tell

the

difference.