The Calm Sea
When Magda died, all barriers broke.
No depression, no sorrow, just stillness.
Like the calmest sea, flat and dark,
stretching beyond sight.
I existed in my purest form, MYSELF.
No borrowed traits, no learned habits.
Just being.
Sometimes I envy that state,
but I know not to linger too long in it.
I only acted, every word, every motion,
a performance for the world.
Like a machine, programmed to react,
empty of meaning, void of self.
When something new arrived,
it never truly touched me.
Just a passing flicker in short-term memory.
I drifted further,
speaking less, withdrawing more,
except to the few who still reached me.
Then, the ripples came.
Subtle at first, but they grew,
stirring the abyss, reshaping me.
I gathered fragments of the past,
blending them with the present,
constructing a new SELF,
wiser, changed.
I struggle to recall what came next.
What did I feel beyond the void?
Only that I found love again—
deeper, truer.
It grounds me. It holds me safe.
Now, standing at the edge once more,
I wonder what memories will resurface.
This is not a will,
nor a testament.
Just words adrift,
like autumn leaves, restless in this October wind.
Left for the reader to unravel,
to find meaning or glimpse
into the corridors of my mind,
a reflection of this fleeting moment.
A glimpse into a mind meeting mortality,
facing fragility once again.
I do not yet know how I will bear it.
The womb that gives life,
that nurtures, shelters, loves unconditionally
how can I fathom its absence?
I understand now..
some beings never leave us,
we carry them always.
Yet in the fleeting moment of loss,
the weight feels unbearable.
An internal big bang
a collapse into that quiet sea once more.
One day, I will face my own mortality.
Soon, or in the distant unknown.
I fear it,
but I long for it too.
The beauty of nothingness calls to me,
whispering in the hush of the tide.
And sometimes,
I listen.
Written in a time when I dwelled in a dark corner.
