nair36

The things I carry

I carry many things

Today I carry a pen

A pad and paper too

They hold the things I carry

My pen carries my thoughts

My pen and pad carry my feelings

When they combine

They carry me

I wonder about things

I wonder about others

They wonder about me too

I wonder if my pen and pad

Can carry the many things I wonder

They do

It doesn’t matter

About the weight of the load

It matters about the capacity

The capacity carries itself

Myself…

Carries a load

Of a combination

If the combination is too much

Too much to carry

A stroke of my pen

Across my paper

Can carry a weight so heavy

That I don’t have to worry

I don’t have to worry about carrying

Anything

Anymore

Anytime

The things I carry

Are not measured in pounds

Not measured in tons

A scale can’t weigh what I carry

Nothing can

Or ever will

A scale can’t measure the weight

Love can measure the things I carry

Compassion

Empathy

Even sympathy

But I don’t rely on the scale of love

Or compassion, empathy and sympathy

I don’t rely on it to measure the weight

I rely on love itself

To carry my hand

So I can carry my pad and paper

So it can carry what I have yet to understand

If love could be measured

The scale would break

Into shards

Of compassion

Empathy

And sympathy

The things I carry

Are not only for me

But for the others

The others I care about

The others I wonder for

The others who wonder about me

I think about you

The one who is reading this

And hopefully

My words can carry you

Carry you to a place

Of compassion

Carry you to a place of empathy

A place of sympathy

A place of understanding

The things I carry

You carry too

Everyone does

I carry words

That cannot be defined

They can’t be spoken

But they can be seen

And if you can see them too

You’ll understand

Why they can’t be weighed

On any scale

On anything

The things I carry

Are hard to understand

Hard to put in words

That can make one understand

That can make one see…

My hands are fragile

My hands are breaking

I leave behind

Shards of compassion

Shards of empathy

Shards of sympathy

All from two hands

As long as my pen

Carries my thoughts

They will have a place

To call my pad and paper home

To heal my hands

So they don’t have to carry

What needs to be carried

The things I carry

Carry me too