when you left

i use to believe you'd fly. remember? as a child, flying was close to being free. you were free to go now, and so i believed you'd fly. there wouldn't be a need for wings to sprout like leaves on a tree, to unfold magnificently like a butterflies'. oh no, you would fly with so much more grace than they. i thought your feet would peel lightly from the ground, heels lifting first and then your toes, until all of you was air born. the sun would wrap its rays 'round you like a cloak of gold, not concealing you, but making you shine. as you made your way through the clouds, water crystals would catch in your hair and on your skin. cobalt and beryl droplets reflecting the open sky. there you'd be, rising higher past the tree tops. until all you could see is a patchwork of land underneath. greens and browns. and you would close your eyes and smile sweetly. because you knew, you'd see colors you'd never seen before, in the place you were bound for.

but here you stayed, or so i thought. eyes closed, a smile on your quiet lips. now i understand, this wasn't you. just what was left behind for us. your eyes weren't shut tight, not really. you saw clouds and bright lights and a sea of glass. beauty that cannot be contained into words so simple. now i understand your lips were not sealed, but that you sang a song. a melody which was the sound of being whole, with a voice which was not your own. and now i understand, that you flew afterall.

a letter i found in a stash of my writings from back in the day. it is written to my loved ones, those who have left this world for a perfect one.