Smoke.
My cat is old and flirting with the end of living.
After all my wisdom is used, I am left to holding
a soft sad lullaby in my arms. Just that.
Mother's memories drift past dreaming horizons.
Autumn's leaves are thrown skyward and land
back, falling into this heaven as they will.
Where has her life lead her to, standing now,
one stone closer to the edge of untamed
understanding?
What confusion must she be washed within
till memories lost matter no more?
Small illusions evaporate from meaning.
And another rolls within sight of God's lair,
where truth yet lays curled upon her lap. Choose
just one - love or fear. Choose now.
Breath. Each breath belongs to heaven.
Choose. That is all we ever have.
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