Letting things go

like the autumn leaves,
quitely wither off,
there are things waiting
on the old branches of this ageing tree,
who have waited untill this moment,
so that their weight can be eased,
after all, this rotten pain can be ceased.

things seemed to come,
just at the right time,
when there was an unspoken demand,
when there was an instinctive expectation,
they came and slipped in nicely,
and compared to then,
now they make me feel,
a childish greed triggered dilemma,
in doing the act,
in weakening the grip,
and letting them go.

this embracing sorrow,
in seeing the river,
take my ducks away,
in hearing the cranky cage open,
and there go my pigeons,
with no promises, no pacts,
of ever coming back,
slowly damns the heart,
politely with mercy.

then i would wait untill they are out of sight,
lost beyond the horizon,
hold my breath and,
turn around to never ever look back,
where they disappeared.
to never put my steps in the same direction,
and wholely solely,
disregarding wants,
closing the chapters,
bid them farewell.