I Finished my term today and when I stepped out the door afterward I looked up at the sky and thought about that being a form of graduation.  Reflected on what I’d learned.  Tried to choose a life’s work. Tried to think about who I wanted to be.

I finished my term today and the final grades are in.  I seem to have passed all the critical tests, the crucial exams, 
the certifications for the New Life. I looked up at the sky and reflected on what I was supposed to do — what shone upon me now, what I attracted unto my self under the grand roof of Heaven.

I finished my term today and realized I had no idea what to do next. Reflected on direction, considered standing still for all the rest of time.  Instead I looked up and began to rise.  Ceremonial to the end. The writer of ritual endings. The knife wielder, my hands moving above my head. The only tassel to toss is the one on the scabbard of the athame.

This is how a long semester ends — uncertainty and a fall back into superstition. 
This is how I discuss my lost youth. This is how the aged degenerate.
This is how it’s done. This is how we do it.