The Bearable Lightness

Somehow these streets welcomed me. After such a long time, after so many instances of disappointment, after betrayals and shameless lies, these streets could still forgive. They may be filthy, ugly, they may be nothing of importance. They may be insignificant in their position, they may be one way or not, cobbled or concrete, lined with trees, lovely or not. They may be the stuff of dreams, they may only be a means of getting to a brighter, bigger, prettier part of town, but they accept, know how to let go of a grudge. They sooth, offer comfort to brokenness. Gently I let go, timidly I surrender. Close my eyes and thank these holders of ancient monuments that I am allowed to roam freely. That I am given their blessing, that I can call this city my home. I will surely leave, but I am certain I will come back. Each time come back with more love.

In my own little quiet way I sing a eulogy. Salute the triumph of the average man. Pray for peace to grace the ways of the storming heart. I wish to be shown the parts that remain hidden so oft. Just for as long as I am still here. Just for now. The heavens ring loud of the plans which will see me leave. Silently slip, share a new place, learn to make peace with new faces, new streets. You feel secure, grounded where you are. In the process of leaving there are instances of stillness. An almost invisible movement steers you towards the end. Undenied, unseen, unending motion.

So come close. Touch these weary hands. Hold them so there is no reason to take flight. I wait patiently. I wait in anticipation, unable to bear the excitement much longer. Any word that you have tamed sounds true to me. Lie the stars off the sky, just lie. Yet you stay silent, hide the things that my heart needs to see. My steps become lighter, I am no longer chained. Starting to lose the burden. Starting to feel the weight of my footprints. I move away from you, I am leaving. The traces left behind will not represent who I was, who you were. They are records of moments that knew lighter times. Records of instances that burn.

In the instance of betrayal there are these kind streets, this kind city that holds me. This city that knows me. Knows me quiet, knows me absent, knows me burdened with sadness. Knows my worries and knows the fears I hold. Knows me bearing lightness, bearing weight. Knows me leaving but every time convinces me to stay. Every balmy summer night roots me further, every snow capped church steeple lets out a prayer for my wandering soul. I cannot stay forever, I cannot stay for long. This time I have now, I will give it to no one but my wonderful city of love. My wonderful carrier of lighter dreams, my one constant companion who makes being bearable. These songs fly, the lightness becomes desired, bearable. After the being we expect the lightness to fall to these bearable sounds.