I’m going to miss the ringing of the village church bells
As I lie in silence in my new bed.
I’m going to miss the fresh village bread
As I sit at the table sipping my morning brew.
I’m going to miss the village chit chat
As I smile at unfamiliar faces of my new neighborhood.
Because I am going.
Going to blow away the heavy layer of stale dust;
Going to turn over that twenty-year-old leaf;
Going to move outwards and upwards and onwards.
There will be no more darting God’s curveballs;
No more blaming nor shaming nor guilting either.
Instead, Courage has won allyship over Conformity or Comfort:
It now sits snuggly like a crown on my head
As I stand tall and strong like a lighthouse to my children.