Passing 

If I don’t think of getting you a gift,

If I forget to say, “Merry Christmas,”

If my eyes seem far away 

Looking at a distant life,

My dreams are dying right before your eyes.

I’m passing away.

I’m changing like the light that passes through 

A prism, white, breaking up

Into red, orange, yellow, blue,

Indigo and violet.

And everything I’ve ever thought was true,

Wasn’t,

And even myself.

I’m a mystery to me

Springing (eternally springing) 

From the darkness deep within the darkness itself.

I’m passing through

The night into the day.

My dreams are dying right before my eyes,

And that is good.

I’m passing away

And making way for something new

To become of myself.

(And that’s good, too,

Or maybe that’s just the way..... it is.)

-jenn