Transcendency

It's the ultimate step - passing the gate.
I am entering a room, so bright, that my eyes need adaptation, before I can move further.

I feel like a beast of burden, dragging my luggage.
The huge backpack of mistakes, the tiny suitcase of happy moments, the cage containing my soul.

In the distance I can see a man. He's waving.
Beside him there's a towering heap of baggage.

When I reach his position, he just removes my backpack.
Then I open the cage, freeing the soul.

We're laughing.

Finally we walk on together,
carrying one suitcase, each
- our souls flying.