NaPoWriMo Day 30 :: The Last Day

The Last Day

‘til death do us part is a lie.
we buy into the illusion of Maya:
our flesh a convincing story we tell ourselves
to experience a different sort of existence
death is only a door we walk through to go home,
autumn leaves returning to earth at the end of a season

we fear winter because we have forgotten
that we are always connected to spring
we fear death because we fear forgetting and
being forgotten so we cling desperately to this illusion

we have forgotten how to listen with heart wide open
we have forgotten how to see the reality
that love outlasts the body and that physical death
only looks like separation

this story of separation has us convinced
that death is the end, even if Nick Cave
and physics disagree —

the first law of thermodynamics states that
“energy is neither created nor destroyed”
there is only a shift in state, the thermodynamics
in the heat of his heart reaching out to hers
is a biology of emotions spanning the forgetting,
remembering instead that love is an energy
neither created nor destroyed

with our hearts we speak to the world
with our hearts we speak to each other
with our hearts we listen and
we have become hard of hearing,

deaf to the language
of electromagnetic affection:
one heart beating in sync with another
we have forgotten the words to this song
so we let ourselves doubt its strength,
let our egos make us ache when
this memory loss is only a story we create

we long for the touch of a loved one
but atoms never touch; their electrons only repel,
and our nervous system interprets
the pressure of repulsion as healing,
like two magnets of the same polarity
pressing against the space between them

the stories we tell ourselves make this reality
a place of forgetting that what is felt with the heart
is what is real and what is felt on the skin is illusion
atoms are mostly empty space anyway and

he will remember her touch after she has left this movie theater
he will remember her laughter and her smile
he will remember how it felt to be around her
he will dream vividly of her heart’s language
and the way it spoke to him
it is written in his cells

these memories, these echoes of experience…
he wants nothing more but to continue writing and
the echo is not what he wants,
but, autumn leaf falling,
she teaches him
it is what he needs
and it is after he walks through the door
that he will remember:
death is only a dreamed up fiction of forgetting
the heartspeak of always being connected to
her spring, lives in constant bloom

today is the last day.
tomorrow is the first lesson
in his remembering the language
of their love and listening
to her heart speak to him across
the theater of physics
and physical attraction
the affection of thermodynamics
the shift of seasons
always cycles back to spring

if he lets himself,
he will remember the song they wrote
and he will sing