Pampas Grass
June 10, 2013
(Thanks, Scotty)
Forgiveness is a friend.
Don't take to being clay
again and pull yourself
by width to curtain your
sadness or wrath when
you're wronged.
Leave length and anger
to skies with their
expressive storms, and
you will embrace time
to consider a path that
enriches easier breaths,
and they'll compare to
those soft pats on a shoulder
that calms.
Sprint with tears to
your inner beach. Trust, their
flow will no longer be a
concern.
Nothing maintains a
shape from matter to
matter unless a dwelling
for it surges.
That would map your
deterrence.
Don't barricade further
by being grander than
your proper person, like
the reach of pampas grass;
you'll pose higher than
any burden, erect and catatonic,
not worthy of your
standard and cluttered.
You are not fire. You
cannot singe them to soot and
mash it underfoot.
You are not a mountain.
You cannot sire boulders
to stomp them out and be
a controller.
The frenzy of emotion
must be a spooned dosage, then
bear down on your
problem, and be like spring and
overgrow recent frets as
a picture assuming development,
and outshine what was
once some trouble you met.
© 2013 Jarrod C. Lacy
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