With my last cold breath,
I cross a colorless bridge.
I will not be back.
Almost a suicide note, huh? But that was not the motivation. I purposely went dark while drafting it as I remembered lost family and friends, one of whom had passed from colon cancer in the December before this was written. She always made me smile, and I would have liked to have said goodbye, but was never given the chance. The thought still makes me angry. Time passes and, boom, the chance for closure is gone, and you find yourself saying goodbye to a picture on the back of a funeral home pamphlet.
So why the “colorless bridge” and not the “rainbow bridge”? Not all of us live a life that’s worth remembering or revisiting. A shitter, in other words. And the colorless bridge transitions into “will not be back.” Some cultures and religions believe in reincarnation with all their being, but I could see someone pushing back on the chance. If they didn’t get it right the first or second or whatever time, why would they come back?
Yeah, this one was a picker-upper, but writing it helped purge some ghosts from my psyche. Maybe it will help you, too.
Technical note: The above haiku was not the next in line from my book draft:
Whispers from afar
Of a slow dance, a kiss, love.
Real or not, I smile.
Way softer than the first haiku, yes, but I don’t remember the idea or motivation behind it. A chance encounter at a high school dance? A dream I had the night before? A happenstance of words? All possibilities and more, but the one good reason is lost in the mists of time. And I like this one better than the first, even if I don’t remember why I wrote it.
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