misunderstanding

is becomes was –
this moment,
a memory.
time passes – regardless the level of involvement.
words you said;
muted colors on a distant canvas –
messages blurred like watercolor in the rain…

once –
on a journey into your garden –
i thought i heard the sound of humming birds –
a thousand butterfly wings creating a melancholy chorus –
and then,
silence…

would this wound heal faster if self-inflicted?
the pain –
less intense?
your departure – more justified?

i guess that i will never know
the answer to the question of you;
(only sky can understand the sun).
reason –
distant mountaintop – i fear i can never reach…