In This World I Became…


blue nebula

I remember my mother telling me to choose who I was in this world wisely.

So I pointed to the moon.

“I know you love the moon my darling, and you’re drawn to how it shines in the dark.
But don’t choose to be the moon just yet, because on lonely nights it tears itself apart,
and for the longest times it stands in half waiting for her lover,
forgetting that she was once full before, and that in time she will be complete without another.
So choose the moon when you’re ready to live, and choose it when you’re gone.
See the beauty in life and loss, and remember,
the moon is yours only until the dawn.

Impatiently I looked at the fireplace

“I feel the fire within you stirring, and aching to rise in flames. But don’t set yourself on fire for someone who will watch you burn, because passion without love is not the same.
And I know you desire looking into someone’s eyes and feeling the warmth of a human touch
but remember that with fire comes ashes, and it will end far too quickly and destroy far too much”

So with the silence my eyes drifted to a book

My mother held it and smiled

“If you want to be poetry my dear, then be prepared to love what is lost.
for you will lose yourself in the words of a poet, and discover that beauty can deceive the heart,
and you will welcome tragedy, and embrace the pain
and forget how precious life can be
when immortal you became,

“Just look at the night sky my darling and she will look back at you, and in that infinity you’ll see yourself changing, and in that void you can create something new.”