Now That the End Is Near

The once bare walls, now adorned with signs of my spirit,
Will be bare once again
Four years held here, and now the end is near.

Every laundry pile, every stack of books,
Each crystal placed with care
Will fall into silence.
Now the end is near.

Delicate altars built to honor and hold
Will dissolve,
Making room for a new season’s bloom.
Now the end is near.

The dim-lit living room,
Where Matt Maeson’s verses danced
And Taylor Swift’s voice filled the air, 
Where we twirled around to TV Girl
Will stiffen into stillness.
Now the end is near.

The bedroom, where we once worshipped each other,
Where life was created
Now folds inward
With each box packed full of memory.
A soul remembered,
A self once shattered.
But here I healed.
Here, I was reborn.
Now the end is near.

And yet
My new sunroom, a 70s fever dream,
Breathes the colors of beginning.
Here, gratitude floods in
For the space that once cradled me
When I could barely hold myself.

Now the beginning is here.