What you are holding onto so heroically
Left here three days ago. Why seek you the living among the dead?
When you open your hand and let go, losing choice and a fingernail or so in the process,
You lose this and make room for that which may never come
Though I expect it will.
She telescoped down to a newborn old lady
I loved her wavering between strength and frailty
Cold wisdom clouding the mirror she no longer looks into
It could as well be a blank sheet of white paper for all it reflects these sunny days
I kneel warmed by the silence of my cross laden bedroom and pray for
You.
No comments:
Post a Comment