LETTING GO OF LIFE'S BURDENS
I wonder if, when you die,
life passes before you
like a train to London —
125 GWR —
except it shows your passions
and voids your pain.
Because the destination
is arriving,
and you know it’s inevitable.
Inevitably
inevitability.
And yet, like Reading to London,
you know the path,
but the outcome of your day tripping
is always different.
It all rolls past fast,
as if on a loop,
framed by the door window.
I hope it feels like the sun on your face,
eyes blinded by the brightness,
a blissful lightness —
a momentary feeling,
a soft forgetting
of where you are
and why you are there.
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