A part of my mind has formed that wasn’t there before. I refuse to process, scan, to try to grasp and discern, to categorize and evaluate.

An insight, a step, a thought 

A truth, a feeling, a song

A wish, a look, a tear

A fear, a breath, a path

And something is leaving me, something soft. An essential something. How do I hold onto it? I never force what refuses to stay.

No anger, no demand.

Only a quiet, open hand.

(Now that the rooms are empty, I don’t know how to feel. Relived? Disappointed? Frightened? Exhausted? Excited?

Hope shines through the windows, but in the shadows, the memories linger.

What lies beyond can be anything. But I know I will never forget.)

Zrak