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I, a sole connection between two opposite realities; both of which mere mortals defy. There isn’t a single soul upon this earth who hasn’t had an opportunity to tread upon, long after living a fulfilled life — to cross over and tear layers of illusion. But then, that’s what death is now, isn’t it? It’s more like a deception, a myth you could say or a fallacy of sorts. It’s just another name, an excuse for preparing one for the afterlife. I observe as spirits both good and bad cross over, and offer salutation, hoping they come bearing abundance of prayer and faith.

I blinked, as fresh tears welled up and rolled down my cheeks. The mere idea of a beloved not truly dying and just crossing over the bridge between life and death made my heart jump. It gave me hope that perhaps one day we would meet again – meet along lapis skies with a hint of rouge. Each living moment and breathing day, I make sure to offer prayer for their departed souls, so that their sins are forgiven. To give them a fighting chance at heaven.

Rushing tide whispers gently
as sunlight gold beams above
when love eludes dark despair
when orison outplays distress
even nature ebbs with rhythm

 

 

Photo credits: pixabay.com

Posted on Haibun Monday @ dVerse Pub

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Posted for Midweek Motif @ Poets United