Will there always be something to stomp over?
Will there ever be more than a glimpse of time when this agitated soul of mine -
can settle and rest and in ease?
Will this being, of me, always be looking for more..
Or trying to escape?
Why can’t I be more like my grandma -
Simple and humble
Enduring and strong
Gentle and caring
Quick to forgive...
Why must I cling so tightly to my pain,
As though without it i would be lost
How can I learn to just put it down and rest -
Forgive…
When i am angry enough
To tear down the walls around me
And become a beast
Capable of destruction
While all the while
I just want to stop
And smile…
But i can’t
Not truly.
This smile is flat.
A weak attempt to endure, like Nanoo
And forgive.
But it is beyond my capacity,
And I need space-
So i do not destroy
Everything around me.
How much pain i have endured already
Waiting and clinging
To something wild, untame
Lashing me forward and back
Without rest or pause
I am exhausted
And still attempting to hold on
And tame this beast-
And at the same time,
I am ready to match him.
To let go, and face him head on
A bull fight.
For although I am tired,
I have grown strong from all of this holding
Back and fourth -
Up and down.
A moment of rest -
Then jolted awake...
I’ve grown agile,
And quick on my feet.
But how much longer can I endure?
I am tired.
And angry..
And stuck...
Between letting go,
A sad surrender.
Or holding on
With the strong hope
That i can survive.
As I grow older,
And my muscles decay
Will I be able to hold on?
Or will I be thrown vigorously to the ground
After years of battle,
Tired and broken,
With nothing left to hold on to.
Why can’t i be more like my grandma?
Simple and humble..
Enduring and strong..
