Down by the river we sit and talk.
When I think I can’t ache any more,
the world serves more heartache.
And I meet it.
I say no, but I feel myself stretched
by some great invisible hand,
rendering me spacious enough to hold
what must be held.
When we rise to leave,
the river doesn’t stop.
Nor does the forgiving wind.
I swear I feel them move
right through me.
Oh this is quite lovely, and quite heartfelt! Namo
Funny thing…two friends sent me this poem of yours today. How cool is that!
Sadly, we lost our Sweet pup, Jack, on Sunday to seizures. This poem speaks of holding more and more – sometimes, more than we think we can – what must be held.
Rosemerry, thanks for sharing your gift of heart-voice! Love and Namaste my friend, Augusta