I once held fast to everything—
The shimmer of dreams, the cut of pain,
Old voices echoing like stones
Tumbling down memory’s lane.
But the spring whispered beneath the stream,
Clear and cold, with gentle might,
“It is not the grasp that grants you peace,
But letting go that brings you light.”
So I knelt beside that living thread,
And let the water take my name,
Unclenched my heart, released the dread,
And watched it float away like flame.
Now I walk lighter, though not alone,
My love beside me, hand in hand—
We do not dam what cannot stay,
We build our joy on shifting sand.
© Susie Stiles-Wolf