We argue about
holding on
and letting go.
when to meander long,
when to stop short.
I know that you see the same things
through more beautiful eyes
and in a different way
than I might realize.
I was a little boy
when I was made this way,
did all I could to change,
gave all my rules away.
Tried to move on and found
I was still holding on,
feet nailed to the ground,
dancing to the song
and getting it
right
and getting it
wrong.
In spite of this
life
I’m still hanging
on
with my one good hand,
the other one
broken,
mauled
by an angry world.
Held on for too long.
Letting you go
was the smartest thing
I ever did.
Now you orbit
closer to me
then if I
had kept my grip.
One day I’ll let
this other hand go
and we can float away
in the unknown.
Until then,
we better hang on tight
to each other.
Whether we’re creating order,
or righting chaos on our borders,
think one way
and go another,
so confusing for this soldier.
Same thing done over and over,
cyclical mental disorder.
Good-bye neurotic perceptions,
childish infatuations,
eschew every signalled virtue,
displace this procrastination.
I’m alive
and you’re a widow,
as long as I hold my grip.
I love you so much
and I smile
as I feel
my fingers slip.
HG – 2019
