Our lives
are transitory swings.
We are the
count down---
the one, two, three
before we fly
wind running
carresing fingers
through our hair.
And when we land
sneakers filled with sand
knees buckled
and laughing eyes
we must choose
to go again
or to stay
stay grounded.
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That is it...life.
ReplyDeleteNever stop writng JB.
Wow! This is one of my favorites. Like Olie said, don't stop.
ReplyDeleteWisely and beautifully said.
ReplyDelete