TRANSITION

I did not want to wake you.
We've said our goodbyes so many times. 

Before leaving I took off my shadow 
and placed it on the bed 
don't be surprised if you see it
hand-in-hand with yours. 

Unflinching the darkness embraced me 
its lightness now mine too. 

From here I see what I have left behind  
for the first and perhaps last time 
everything is so clear
as if sung by my mother 
and ordered 
in the manner of my dad's starched handkerchiefs 
and modest 
like my brother's smile. 

Recognising familiar things at this moment 
makes bearable the transition to the antithesis
of all the hesitations that had eroded me 
like underground water 
and all the questions without answers 
and answers for whose questions I had no ears.

I can't say if inevitability was unbearable - 
it is now pointless and as miniscule as an earthly feeling. 

To have no choice and accident 
to be your guide is an untried new freedom.
The universe has no compass no opinion no question mark -
only a colon: behind which it expands
and I with it.

How can I explain it to you? 
The used words don't belong here 
and the new ones cannot fill the space that grows between us.
 
Perhaps I just want to tell you not to worry about me. 

Like life, mortality is transient.