It’s A Poem For Leaving

by Nicholas Andrea

It’s a poem for leaving, O!
it’s a poem for leaving, for
everything has a time and a season
and we don’t need a reason for grieving
it’s a poem for leaving, O!
it’s a poem for leaving;

you know, things may change
but they never actually die, just
shift form from one thing to the next so we can
find together a new way to fly

it’s a poem for leaving, O!
it’s poem for leaving;

to go with no regret,
to end

to feel the sweet longing of stepping up from one valuable thing to the next
to ascend

walking forward in truth
I shared myself tonight with you, forsooth
with childlike and trembling vulnerability
with integrity to me, for all of you to see

it’s a poem for leaving, O!
it’s poem for leaving;

tonight, I saw on her sleeve a heart
like I’ve never seen before
beauty, like a work of art, that
I never knew she bore

and that man, from that hard
man, compassion did I see
an understanding I have never known
that existed inside he

sometimes it’s the moments that feel like death
where we do truly see
the value and light that we all carry
deep in the underneath

it’s a poem for leaving, O!
it’s poem for leaving;

so easy to remember
the bliss together we did find
and easy to forget, that
there was a shadow side, which
to overly romanticize
the truth would be denied

but upon those negativities
we do not linger
for when change comes upon us
we choose to focus on the finger

of love that has moved us
through laughter and the smiles
that kept us flying high in rhythm
sustained us for a long while

and, what greater pleasure, I daresay
could there be
than to bring smiles from ear to ear
to strangers on the street

as did we, with by
the sharing of our joy
playing like innocent children
loudly with our toys?

Boy, oh boy, such
selfless fun it’s been
to play the drums
in rhythms wherein

the human spirit
is celebrated
beckoned forth
and elevated

oh love, oh love
how you’ve touched us all
which is why we stand here
with no ego, just awe;

now, speaking our truth might not be easy
but it is part of the flow
the river of life we don’t create,
contain, nor to control

but, to be human is to experience
bittersweet melodies
like the haunting sound of a bagpipe
playing sorrow’s remedies

it is a poem for leaving, O!
it is a poem for leaving, yes
but, nothing really leaves, because
nothing is ever unpossessed
by That Thing, That Thing that lives in our own heart
That Thing, the source, of all our human art

no, nothing ever actually dies, just
shifts form from one thing to another
it’s a poem for leaving, O!
it’s poem for leaving,
but not really, not really, my sisters and brothers.


About NickAndrea19

My goal has always been and continues to be the liberation of minds, my own and what influence I may have on others, to perceive the extraordinary beauty all around us. To this end, I write, play music, and design websites. Don't hesitate to contact me for more information about any of these activities. :)
This entry was posted in Expansive Blog, Love Chronicles, Poetry, Relationships and Self and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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