Drift Away

Held fast. Crushing. Breathing was hard.

Until it wasn’t.

Drifted away on a moment of laughter.

Somedays, it drifted away on the teardrop.

Other days, it drifted away on fast feet. Running from nothing,

but shadows of the past.

Everytime. It drifted away.

This moment too, shall pass.

Change It All

Sitting here. Looking at everything. I want to change

it all. As the thought sinks in. Strands of memory pour

through the relief. Sinking deep into marrow. I

blink once, twice, a few more times. Until the cobwebs recede.

Opening my awareness to my fist, tightly gripping

all I tried to let go. Maybe I got this wrong. Maybe I 

gave too much here, and not enough there. Maybe

I should change it all. See where everything falls,

while I stand. Unclenching the very thing holding me here.

To find…something more breathable and light. Has it all changed?

Oh, Time.

Running ahead toward something not quite seen.

Time gets away from me.

Floating away. ‘Time could you slow down?’ I say.

Time laughs and moves farther away.

I gather my things; chores, fun, work, play, other things to do today.

Hugged tightly in my arms. We run toward time.

Time is too far. Skipping, running, trying hard,

But time stays to far

out of reach. I think I must

lighten this load and trust.

Trust that time will slow for me

if I could drop a few things.

Arms open wide and toss it ALL aside.

Running unencumbered now.

‘Time! Time! I am getting there now.’

Time smiles slowly, with great pleasure.

‘I see you finally learned to measure

the importance of time these days.

How you do not wish it to slip away.’

Nodding and somewhat surprised

To find somethings by my side.

‘You see the ones that really matter

will never get away. Those stick like glue

and stay with you.’

‘I see’, I kindly say.

Grateful And Thankful

There are times when things are not what they appear to be. Something changes. Goes away. We learn to live with it anyway. Yet there is a gaping hole. An opening, not quite full. Where or what will fill it up? It’s up to us to fill our cup. So we have been told. Lean into the power of letting it all go. Praying for a miracle. Grateful and thankful to still be alive. For in that kind of magic, blessings come through. Restoration is achieved. We are lifted and present in the spirit of God.

Holding On

So much time spent holding on.

Tight grips. Twisted fists.

Holding on. Holding on.

Until it cannot be held.

The hands are tired.

The body worn.

To continue this way would not last to the morn.

The hands have gripped so tight for too long.

Snarled and curled. It is hard for them to unfold.

Slowly, they move. Tiny things slip away first.

Followed by others a little bigger each time.

All in all, it gets better. The hands do not hurt as much.

Loosening the grip. They relax more every time.

Until a day comes where they hold nothing but air.

Loose to the world. Free from any cares.

Straighter and lighter. Their work is more rewarding.

As instead of holding on, they help. 

The relief of letting go has freed them to explore.

Open up doors. Wave. Clap. And more.

Even though they carry things, from time to time,

These beautiful hands no long hold onto anything.