A Light Bulb

around the days you transitioned were the days I questioned. around the days you transitioned I tried to find the meaning of existence. around the days you transitioned I tried to find the trail you could've left behind for me to tell me you're alright.

A light bulb tightly screwed into the ceiling fell with ease onto its knees, it didn't shatter and it didn't smash it just became transparent like water. the light that was once lit inside that bulb we couldn't see anymore but had now shifted from our downed naked eyes to the world of the hidden. That was you wasn't it? that was your trail that was your answer to my tears who kept asking me why they are being shed, because when I saw that bulb fall the tears stopped falling, when i saw that bulb fall my eyes became sleepy as in to say its okay now, rest your eyes of pain and sorrow you'll see me tomorrow and everyday after that. I hope you're okay in the world of the hidden, in the plane of the remembered and in the realm of the ancestors. I wonder what you're doing now, send me a letter please, I want to know if you can fly or maybe your someone else now or maybe your on the planet with the fucked up communication... in that case don't worry about sending a letter you might not even be English anymore or you might be in a different time zone? where are you, what are you, how are you?

did you see your mum, I pray you did I pray you to pray and I pray for you that you did. wherever you are, do you remember me? right now I'm talking to your shell, which makes no difference when I'm trying to reach your soul, maybe one day I don't know.

pictures have made it harder to connect what was and what is. I look at your picture and think if there was no such thing as a photo would I have gone crazy thinking you were never real in the first place, or does it work either way, with or without pictures. Only those who had seen you would believe in you, would believe your voice, you smile, and you're past up till now. It makes sense only to think of it as a family tree but if we stop and think of it as make-believe, something that was once and now isn't then I would go crazy.

I cry sometimes, but mainly because, I'm confused and I don't know. which is the stupid thing about humans and this experience we're in, why do we need to know, we go mad when we don't get an answer it's like someone not finishing they're... when it's so much easier to let things be.. yeah, no?

it's just annoying. it's annoying that I don't know, it's annoying that I won't know and it's annoying that from a young age I would ask the most bizarre questions about the moon and the world, I must've been 6 or so when I asked why are we on the planet? or, why does the moon follow me? and I believed in that beautiful phrase my mum would always say to me when I asked such questions, she would say "back to the universe", and so have you gone back to the universe right?, it's a big place I hope you didn't get lost. can you come back down to earth? are you still here?

I have so many questions. but that light bulb told me that you're always here, your energy, your vibrations, your being. I just need to wipe the tears and listen and feel and know you're alright wherever you are. so peaceful transition into light xo