Notes To Persephone Book Two: Note Forty-Four

The room was still in the cold gold

Of a bitter morning

Books sat next to his chair

Some read - most not

Boots sat there, too, with a sleeping hound in front of them

Long days of painful deeds

Longer night of dreaming of a brighter tomorrow

 

The cat slept next to his pen on the desk

Journal open to the last page of drying ink

Shouting to no one about how he understood now

His chair turns towards the window

The light had poured in only moments ago as I stood there

An angel came by, calling his name

He went with her, smiling

 

Sure - some dreams never came true

Sure - some deeds were left undone

But he was going now

                Whispering…

                                “Ah, I see; life was the journey; going home is the blessing.”