~threads

beyond the bounds of the

 

       familiar toxic

 

extending to recoil

 

    we touch the place

 

where growth lies in deep exhale

 

      bruises under our eyelids

 

 

 

     we become horses grinding the bit

 

 resisting the  lunge forward

 

    along the river beds

 

we harness the boulders

 

          weighing down tired

 

shoulders carrying weight

 

    we collected through volition

 

perhaps, laid on our backs

 

      when we look back far enough

 

      origins of the patterns become irrelevant

 

       only that needful attenuation

 

      find its completion in the inner work

 

                     its all process

 

   moving from being caught

 

       in our suffering to observing

 

             ...there is space for change,

 

 

     yet, the finality of the shift

 

                  is all free will....

 

 

 

© Katherine Wyatt 2011

Reviews

[Butch Decatoria]

great piece, luv it...

after it all, it is still free will