Sunday, July 29, 2012

this is being alive

[I first read this poem while I was on a silent retreat last fall. It was shortly after my diagnosis. I found it tucked into a journal. The truth of it for my life then and now shakes me.] 

by Darcy R.

Caught between branches
awaiting the ground.
Eyes wide open,
control out of reach.
The crash of the waves, wind in my hair,
lightening --
Showing me glimpses of my future below.
Looking back I see so much.
If only I had
if only I'd
if only I'd not ---
I'd still be standing, two feet on the ground.
Now -
only the elements have control
over where
caught between branches
loved by nothing but the ideas I've imagined.
I am a particle of dust
of many born from one
and will return to the grass that grows.
Caught between branches
hanging -
waiting to crash to the ground.
Eyes wide open
yet control out of reach.
I relinquish
and for once
I am ok
I will survive
I want to fall free of the world above
where I've come from.
Held so highly by the minds I've imagined.
I am intimiately aware of my weight pressed into the tree,
my skin, my blood, my tears.
I am intimately aware that I am alive.
I am alive.

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