Peace-Making

On the dawn of your final day,

you'll make peace with the garden,

    its fruits too young to pluck

    and its weeds overgrown, though full of life.

You'll have breakfast in the kitchen

that will taste brand new

as you look out the window

and see the sparkle between the tree leaves.

As you walk around the block, you'll breathe fresh air

and feel almost young again,

    though your legs are weak,

    and your head is heavy.

Books close unfinished

and some stories remain untold,

    and yet you'll think of them with satisfaction,

    not heartbreak,

        knowing that someone very special still got to hear how it'd all end.

You were a child of hurt

and a youth of abandon,

but an adult that flourished into a creative, a friend, a lover, a mother or a father,

    whichever word you chose to settle on,

    it was yours.

The sorrow will have been long past, as is the lamenting,

    and the tossing and turning,

        and on this final day,

            you will cry tears of joy.

When the sun drifts low on the horizon, you'll wave everyone goodbye

and climb onto your heavenly ship

and sail into the sunset

and when the holy night comes

to darken this one, final day,

    you'll join the stars to dance with the moon.