this elusive contentment
is thin, light, fragile
i'm holding it tight
grasping with a furrowed brow
i'm afraid it's not real
sometimes repeating the feel of it
over & over & over
like a rhythm
like a prayer
makes it more true, solid & weighty
i can be convinced
i can hold it with both hands
i can turn my face from anything else, anything dark & low
the dark is just as real
but now it's the thing getting thinner
lighter, more fragile
as i hold on to this substantial joy
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2 comments:
did you write this friend??? it's beautiful! i'd like to hear your interpretation of it as well.
i did in fact write this -- thank you!
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