What does it mean to take risks? To be vulnerable and open to failure? Are there ways to measure this dance I make with my soul through this bending of time? What is gained or lost by not trying?
Sweeping up the floor I
look not at the brooms movement
But wonder at the swirl of dust caught in the light
Is that part of me or you
or the plant on the shelf we always forget to water
The beauty of this spark reminding me of life and air
I clean constantly not on one day
but throughout the week
On knees weeping with the weight of my overly fed body
I catch the hair in the corner
and wipe the stains of water from a mirror
Like tears, the drops formed from steam
Too much to release through the open door
It collects and reminds me of warmth and letting go
Does life always turn like this
Seeing in through the edges
Sweeping up the floor I
look not at the brooms movement
But wonder at the swirl of dust caught in the light
Is that part of me or you
or the plant on the shelf we always forget to water
The beauty of this spark reminding me of life and air
I clean constantly not on one day
but throughout the week
On knees weeping with the weight of my overly fed body
I catch the hair in the corner
and wipe the stains of water from a mirror
Like tears, the drops formed from steam
Too much to release through the open door
It collects and reminds me of warmth and letting go
Does life always turn like this
Seeing in through the edges
No comments:
Post a Comment