Holding

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I walked outside after our last rainfall. I think I was going to check the mail. I found this.

More and more I find myself attracted to the fragile and the tenuous. I am drawn to what will not last; the temporary, the changing, the transitory.

I am the drop of water, sliding off with the next breeze, evaporating into the warming air. I am a small child longing to become. I am a contribution hoping to be made.

Some days  I want to stay on the leaf, holding out hope that it will remain just like this for just a little longer.  Some days I am ready to get soaked in, nourishment for something greater.

Being held is best appreciated in the letting go.

 

 

2 thoughts on “Holding

  1. How Poetic, I love–that you are developing an artists eye, always there waiting to be come, this is delightful. xo Mom——————————————

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