Moving On

MOVING ON

Moment by moment,
nothing is the same.
I can’t stop time,
and yet I cling,
limpet-like,
to my delusions
of control.

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Chunks of fossilized fear
break, crumble, disappear –
was that ever part of me?
Whatever I let go
gives way to re-creation –
new hope, new joy,
new love.

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Can I believe that?
Is it true?

Freedom seems too easy.