Hope

but she took my hands in hers,
looked into my eyes,
and with a smile
breaking apart
the smooth skin of her
beautiful face
with which she'd seen
a thousand centuries,
countless
men and women
live and die in constant fear,
she told me:

'You and I are not
unlike the stars
shining above.
We serve our purpose
for as long as we can,
for longer than we ever
thought possible.
We help the sailors
lost on an ink-black sea
and the lost souls
wandering the deserts.
We provide light for the
lonely and the hopeless.
But like everything else,
eventually,
we fade out.'

I wanted to tell her
that I feared the sun
for those exact reasons,
that blue skies meant
the loss of hope.
I wanted to ask
about my friends,
gone to the other side,
smiling in my dreams
and telling me to hang on,
not to forget.

And I can't help wondering:
once I'm gone,
who will remember them?
Who will remember me?

But she let go of my hands
and slowly faded away
into the mist
of an autumn dawn.
All that was left was
The dew on the grass
and the cold in my bones.

She was gone too fast,
as were all the ghosts
that now haunt my dreams.
But I know that one day
we'll all be together again
and,
if we don't laugh,
well,
at least we'll smile.

One can only hope.