“To live in this world, you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal; to hold it against your bones knowing your life depends on it; and when the time comes, to let it go.”
~ Mary Oliver
Days filled with grasping holding
pulling at stitches to see if you’ve mended yet
pulling at your own fingers, coaxing them to let go
trying to allow time, breathing to mend
Sharpness then Gentleness
Prickled by my own porcupine needles
the tears come easily and without relief
you listen to alanis morisette
swallow me down
what a jagged little pill
you turn through and you confront
you face and you find
and it’s not pretty
but it’s real. it’s growing.
that uncomfortable, icky, growing
where you question
and you get lost in it all
but you’re glad you’re there,
in the broad spectrum of things.
you’re glad you’re searching.
and finding the answers,
one by one.
i’m taking my steps gingerly and stumbling
but it is my journey
and i walk it consciously.
everything is a blessing, a gift,
even when i struggle with that…
love is all around,