once more i approach the monastery

once more i approach the monastery

on my knees with a whipping stick

so much for the journey i

took only shortcuts and

barely thought of anything other

than my own

suffering

of anything above or below

the beating of my own heart

even as it flit higher and

higher still

to be out of sight

out of orbit

but I don’t begrudge it

that abandonment

besides

it was not the first time

i had been under the impression

that all i need do was

knock on the door for it to be opened

well i kept knocking

i kept knocking til my fists bled

the door didn’t even make a sound

i might

as well have been hitting a cliff

what’s the difference between a door and a cliff?

only hope

or delusion

in any case

i approach the monastery having

strewn promises along

the road behind me and

forgotten

that they might matter

that moments linger in the mind despite

an attempt to strip them of relevance to

a present we inhabit

we share them though so who can say

what feelings remain tangible and what

was lost along the way

finally I reach the monastery

on my knees with a whipping stick and

there you are waiting

behind a door and

abundant of memories