That buoyant world

1d763efcda321356fee424333900e93a--sunrise-and-sunset-golden-hourYou are afraid to shut the front door

it is an unblinking eye to the living

you are attached to a virus, like a fly

stuck firm in ointment, will

be claimed slow and sure

by its urge to escape, it shall

sink deeper and knowing this, you

refuse to close away the day, but

by standing against urging cold air

feeling labored breath of all those

who maintain and climb their days into years

by the touch of their effort, and the rise and fall

of that buoyant world

you shall rejoin the wheel as it arcs and spins

counting down our mortal pieces

such as we are, labored by knowing

how fragile the shimmer of life

yet, not yet, yet

we are still

afloat

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13 thoughts on “That buoyant world

  1. This is you writing it out as you so often do:

    “you are attached to a virus, like a fly

    stuck firm in ointment, will

    be claimed slow and sure

    by its urge to escape,”

    It’s good to bear witness to the consistent release. I’m praying each day provides you with peace and healing.

  2. Relating to this, Candice. The need to keep the door open is both literal (we are still part of that world!) and symbolic. What we must guard against doing is letting the illness define us. We are not this virus. It will not own us. I’ve learned to dispossess it. It’s still there but it isn’t “my” sickness, it’s “the” sickness. And someday you’ll be free of it. Keep that door open so you can kick it to the curb and dance freely in the sunshine again!
    Continuing to hold you in my thoughts and prayers, dear friend. ❤️🌼

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