“Hurry, make more

Hustle, cut through

Quick, achieve it

Climb, how high?

What can you win?

What can you gain?”

Canoeing down the river

Gentle current moves me.

Ebbing, flowing water

And sunlight, all surrounding.

And as I go 

I’m leaving places,

Tearfully farewelling faces,

But the still, small voice,

He gently whispers,

“It’s time to let go”. 

I walk with grief and grief walks with me

sometimes I swim in it

I’m stuck

Drowning

Stuck in these feelings that I can’t reconcile

Between the what I have and what’s to come

Sorrow blossoming into empathy and compassion

Able to hold others sorrow

While learning to live amongst my own