The Open Hand

I’ve been

letting myself down

real easy.

Getting over my

various iterations

has been…

…well, let’s just say,

it’s been an adventure

in the extraordinary

power of avoidance.

 

Deny myself the parable.

Not worthy of the metaphor.

I’m not exactly feeling dirty,

just out of place,

a little out of sorts.

 

Oh, you know

that I’ll be coming home

to you;

your favorite big, red balloon.

I’m inside;

sometimes it’s a room,

sometimes a chamber.

 

I’m not very good

at lingering, I fear.

I’ve been feeling tired

and the climb is long.

I’m not certain

that I can go on,

but then I realize

I’ve been hanging on

to all my misery,

accompanied

by parts of me

that died long ago.

I just have to open my hands

and let go

and I’ll float.

 

Oh, it seems so easy.

If I can slip my grip,

I’ll break a finger or two

to be free to move.

Bearing my burdens

has been noble and right

and really fucking stupid.

 

 

There must come a time

where we set aside

our shame and punishment.

It only gets us

so far gone,

to build that character

and learn humility.

Sometimes

we have to set

ourselves aside

to save our sanity.

 

So, now I’ll just float away,

free as the sky

will let me be.

Wherever the wind shall carry me.

I’ll be in the open place,

no longer so restrained.

 

I love  you,

so you let me go.

Choosing to keep all your fingers.

Now it’s my time

to release my hold.

Open hand

is full of danger.

The way it was meant to be.

 

HG – 2018

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