Peices of the Past

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I walk with the utmost serenity

Towards an act of finality

But also a new beginning

An age of reason

My steps become slower

As I near my destination

My walk is more deliberate

And tense

I approach the misty shoreline

And remove my coat and shirt

The cold digs angrily into my skin

Nestling among my pores

Like little beads of ice

I feel them and enjoy the pain of it

I then remove from my pocket

A small item on a necklace

And a heavy ancient hammer

It is nearing dusk

And everything is obscured by a heavy fog

which hides the opposite lake shore

I feel as if the whole universe is behind the fog

Waiting for me

As I stand at the gateway

I hold it up and look at it

The fog makes a photo worthy backdrop

I stare at it as the thoughts reel through my head

And then I place it on the rock at my feet

I continue to gaze, and then, because I know I must, I kneel

Silently, slowly, I raise the hammer up

Then let it fall

It embodies my feeling, thoughts and emotions

My soul and life

As it falls downward toward the small wooden object

Which smashes to bits on the rock

I take the remnants of the object

And toss them to the sea

Pieces of a past

A wooden Crucifix