There are mountains.
They will not always be there.
Nor will love or blood.
Leaving is a constant state, so stop holding on.
If I understood how to be larger than myself
exile, death, and heartbreak would not affect me so.
A single hand clenches rage in a fist.
Two hands bowled fill with prayer and offering.
I cannot take back what has been said
or offer what has been unsaid for too long.
History is a human construction
made of words and interpretation.
Remember that. Words. And interpretation.
I urge you to write your own story. Win or lose.
I am leaving, now. I follow the mountains.
I use two hands to wave goodbye.
copyright © 2019 Kenneth P. Gurney