When it all falls apart,
let it.
Trying to save a brick here
or a scrap of gold there
during the act of tumbling to the ground
doesn’t help and isn’t wise
and probably means you break an arm or a leg
during an acrobatic feat gone wrong.
When it all falls apart,
let it.
And on that morning, long from now,
when you find those three pieces
that have survived,
you’ll see the way they fit together
into some new and necessary
way of being.
When it all falls apart,
let it.
P.S. More of my poems here.
[mybooktable book=”all-the-selves-i-used-to-be” display=”summary” buybutton_shadowbox=”false”]
