The End

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I have always feared the End.

The last pages of the worn novel,
few drops left of my morning matcha,
I savor the beginning –
but never the End.

& then something transformed inside me.

Now,
I seek the End.

At the end; the cycle begins again.
Autumn transforms the colors of the leaves,
the swells from the east slow down
and I’m chasing waves in cooler waters.

One dream to the next,
the interlude gives time for the past to die out.
In the beginning there is aimless hope,
but at the end there is pure knowing.