Close the curtains.
Close the door.
Lock the windows
and unplug the phone.
Breathe the last breath
of an empty space.
Smile a prayer
and then be gone.
Locked-up box
of life’s remains
will stay waiting
for a while.
The wind will blow
and rain will fall.
The ghosts of time
will stay here lonely.
Turn away
from what is known.
Exchange today
for a horizon.
From day’s break,
wake up in a new place,
and there will be
new air to taste.
Same Sun,
same Earth.
New people,
new emotions.
Wearing the same skin,
but there will always be
a new atmosphere
to penetrate.
Strange to think
of our locked-up box,
sitting,
waiting,
half a world away.
What strange thing
it is
to leave ourselves,
to find ourselves.
When the Sun
is at our backs,
we cross the world
in high flight.
Excited to return
to our locked-up box
and what’s inside.
Open the door
and all those
dusty, old ghosts
rejoice.
Open the curtains,
and all the windows.
Breathe life home again.
.
.
DJR – 2023
