dandelion.drafts

A Final Baptism

I’ve walked these trails ten thousand times,

Wandered through the walled-off garden

That used to be lush for ceremonials

But now is barren and neglected.

 

I felt, for a long time, that this place

Was frozen in time, unchanging

In the ugliness of its scarred face

 

I know these paths better than anyone,

Though that is something I need to be reminded of-

I rue going in with others, afraid of what they might find

Or see that I did not.

But yet, more than anyone else, I have

Ran my fingers over the burnt edges

And sat here where the fires left nothing but cinders

 

No one knows this abandoned garden better than I do.

 

I have looked around at all that was left

Over and over and over again

And I have wept.

 

 

Many years have passed. To the point, where,

I don’t actually recall what tree was planted

Next to the rosebush, or how many fish

Were once in the koi pond. Did we have

Honeysuckle there, or in that corner there?

 

And as the years have passed, I have come here

Less. This walled garden ruin used to make

Me angry, incensed at you and the ways you break[1].

It used to make me feel weak and despair.

Now, sitting here – hearing the thunder and

Feeling the dark rain clouds riding in –

I feel only a soft sadness.

 

I have walked these trails ten thousand times,

So often that I did not notice

The wounded edges smooth and heal.

Regrowth? None yet.

But the past is closing,

A final chapter –

And I am ready now –

               Veil and dress of the bereaved crisply pressed –

For the final washing

Before it is laid to rest.

 

There is a weighty peace

In realizing that the last rite of passage

Before a burial

Is really a final baptism

 

[1] You yourself break. You break promises. You break things. You brake when things are good.