Cherry Blossoms

Like when Oogway ascended and his body dissipated into hundreds of pink cherry blossoms, so the wounds on my soul open up and old, trapped parts of me are released, swirling around, glowing, just like Oogway, as cherry blossoms. Light enough to be carried by the wind of my breath, which tingles my lungs when I inhale, and leaves my body when I sigh, accompanied by the pain of the past.

Wounded, I sit here, an open scar on my chest, enveloped in pink, humming odyssey’s of change. Time does not ask. Things so precious to us, which we wished to keep, fade. Some we may hold for a while longer, other less so. Yet, to let go with grace is a sign of wisdom.

To not hold back the tears when they flow, the wails when your chest convulses. To not be afraid to break down, and honor the bond which was lost, with a moment of fragility. 

The blossoms tickle my nose, closing my eyes. I see the sun and hear the laughs of loved ones. I embrace you, tell you I missed you. A big hug comes my way. You lead me home with a smile. We spend a few days of joy, yet the blistering, unwelcoming world calls me out again. I take my battered armor, pick up my sword and return to the frontline, for battles have to be fought. Hoping that one day I am strong enough to be a pillar for people of mine, as you were for me.

I just wish we could have fought side by side. Dear as you are, I will hold you close in this well-trained chest of mine, strong enough to carry my and your sorrow for another time, undefined. 

Receding into the back, you sink into the swamps and soils of my mind, and mix with other unconscious contents. For a while I do not see nor hear, but at times like this, you step forward, to remind me, to rejuvenate me, that I am not homeless, and I am loved.