Anklet

Bound to me in a dream I was unaware of, it has stayed in its place and kept the essence of my travels much better than I have. The dust, dirt, rain, and scum of those places are woven into soften shoots of its body. A guardian in your place, a mythical creature of sorts, has kept me company in solemnity. Passing the days as such, its beads that rest against my skin act as a reminder of your touch.

No wonder I felt so pained for so long.

It seemed to me that the knot I made would not break even if a knife were wedged between the interlinked hands. Then I pulled it apart, as though the seasons passed were only as precious so long as I let my reverie tell the truth. The strength of things, is only a reflection of how much our belief weighs. Once that belief returns to the clouds in the particles of rainwater, the fragility of our existence begins to unravel ever so cruelly.

Accept it, or not, that is up to you to decide.

A mere piece of rope around the ankle, who knew it was capable of suffocating its wearer? Harmless as it may seem, being tied up still makes us unable to move on. With the undoing of its body, I am saddened by the death of its significance. So long, keeper of  hope, may you one day return to live alongside me as the bearer of strength, teacher of patience.