Today, I am finally free
of what used to be
dead vine around my ankles.
I remember
how I would walk
into the vision ahead,
hazy and blurry, like
the cold autum breeze
after the sun has set, like
the few damp leaves
melting as I step on them, softening
the edges of a dream, this dream
that is the present moment.
Today, I watch the eastern
horizon fade as the sun sets,
calmly, at my back. And I breath,
without hesitation, the air of peace,
the air of openness, the
air of someday-real-love. Today, I
smell the fireplaces
as the dog plants two
kisses on my cheek. And I look
up at the dark blue sky and, today;
Today, it's alright.