In fear, in stress, in “I’ll show you”
In fetal ball my heart curls closed
Like my fist
All clenched tight
All knuckled white
Primed for self defence
Primed for emptiness
Letting go is lighter
Letting go is braver
Letting go is opening,
Opening hand and heart
Opening to the possibility that control
is not within my grasp anyway.
My fist is emptiest in its clench,
Holding only me,
prisoner with no air.
Lungs longing, gasping breath,
Gasping, grasping
emptiness.
In fear and fog I flail and fight
And there Breath finds me
all curled tight
He reaches me, unfurling light
Beckoning gently, whispering life
“Let go, breath, believe”
Lungs begin to fill, perceive,
Open handed I receive,
life.
Only open handed I receive;
Life.
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Yet a child’s hand relaxes when closed around a beloved adult’s finger … his hand is not intended to be empty for long but to grasp what is good; he will come out of that foetal position, let go of the finger and play hide and seek around the tree, knowing he will be swept up in an embrace at the end of the game.
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What a lovely image too! When we let go of our selves we can hold onto Him, and he holds us. Love it.
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Beautiful description of freedom and love.
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Dear Liz,
So beautiful.
Written in my language…
Speaks deeply
Soul nourishing
Thank you
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Cool!
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