Friday, February 20, 2009

The End (Fini)

And so it ends. The credits
appear. Even though we know
the story continues, it ends here.
Because it cannot go on
and continue to make sense, or
it would be boring, and
it would be sad, or
it would be
too much
to bear.
Costs have to be considered.
The heart can only admit so much.
And the audience has to leave the room.

And so it ends, like a plant
that bears fruit has to let go its fruit,
to be borne away by water, wind,
monkeys and birds. There’s
nothing left to be curious about.
The story expands but
in different forms and shapes.
With new characters
and a new trajectory,
with the past only serving
as some kind of nostalgic grotesquerie.

And so it ends, a death
is recorded, a finale
allowed. Beat to beat
and breath to breath, this exhalation
stops. No more kisses left
to be given.
No more aching pronouncements
to cry.
Only a sigh.
And a sigh.
And a possible backward glance
that lasts but a second.
Because it had been beautiful
and worthy
but no longer.
For the light needs to be switched off.

And so it ends.
When friends leave comments
that leave no doubt.
When life is asking you
to reconsider your sorrow
with a question that turns
dark into light, or some other
optimistic blight, like tragedy into might.
When the other person no longer
gives you that backward glance
and you’re just staring
at the shadow of a shadow.
It is the end.
It has ended.
There is no more to say.

Except, somewhere, with a step
onto an uncertain plan,
the end turns
and turns
into a beginning.
The fruit bears a shoot.
The movie bears a sequel.
And Lazarus awakes into the same world
with the knowledge there’s still
another who could save him.
From beat to beat
and breath to breath,
the body rethinks its instincts
and decides to live again.
And so it begins.
And so it begins.

For there is no end
a beginning.

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