Passing By as Passerby

In winter’s season I do think a lot of death and passing.

How it’s not a given to finish any journey we started, whether we enjoy it or not.

So many things end abruptly and out of the blue without our soul ever having the chance to ask for it.

And a lot of my opened joureys I haven’t even properly enjoyed.

Most of them I experienced from outside of my body, lingering in the everywhere, too afraid to take on the weight of all experienced complexities.

I feel the need to return breath by breath.

Even though my lense offers a shattered view of tiny human tragedies and disconnection.

My heart combines it all and learns to love it nonetheless.

I want more of life. More depth. More reach into the world. More honestly.

But how do I deserve that more than anyone else, when so many of us have to leave?

Asking for it by itself seems like a crime.

I take a breath and I get scared, I might not get to finish it.

And I’m so grateful at the same time.

I’m scared accepting what I deem as worst, will bring it in.

Which also takes away from my flexibility

I won’t harmonize this one.

~ written by Michelle B.