He packed up his things
He would be traveling to a different place
He was unlike me despite our similarities
His bags were put on the trolley
The plane would be leaving soon
We would see him off from the airport
There would be ample time for the goodbye
Where I thought i was the same as him I was different
In some cases I thought I was different from him
Mistaken I was the same
The real illusion wasn't about my father at all
But about the absence of self wisdom
Like sharks he needed to move nonstop
me, I could stay in place
But my words would have to move things
coming out in volume
breaking dams and overwhelming
Atleast that is the power I wish
He'd go from relaxing to full stress
breaking a vein on the forehead
This was blasphemy
flow was everything
slow smooth living is essential truth
I guess we are not the same
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