the edges of myself

a gentle sigh, an allowance, releasing

that which has held a clutching grip

for longer than i can possibly fathom–

the simplicity of breathing in and out,

finding my breath in full–

allowing

the grief that i didn’t know existed

to flow gently down my cheeks–

making tracks through the garden dust

and grime.

 

the mourning of an idea

held

in the precious, innocent mind

of a child– the unclenching fingers–

cramped and mangled by the fist they

were unaware they held.  the barking–

an audible cry to

LOOK

AT

ME.

Understand

that i have lost something–

 

but gained

worlds.

 

released a cherished idea that was

so deeply rooted that i recognized it

as my own flesh– knew it as i know my

heartbeat and the gentle rhythm of my breath.

an idea so constant and fixed that i can’t fathom

its inception– but as it crumbles it brings with it

such joy and ease (through the tears).

A tender understanding of something

that has always been waiting in the wings–

poised for the moment when the spotlight shone

and my recognition dawned–

 

that family is fluid

an easy, flowing dance without destination–

teeming with laughter and sometimes sadness,

a little anger and frustration thrown in for good measure–

but always continuous

like water in a stream, or the eb and flow

of the ocean tides

 

and love

is only capable of creating

more

love.