I can’t be the glue that binds your attachment to me
Your heart isn’t mine, I should be free
I can’t fill a void that you’ll always feel
My love is too raw and rooted in real
The safe thing to do; keep me in your pocket for days that feel hard and lacking in connection
The other thing to do; make a choice and walk in that direction
It doesn’t matter how much I say I loved you yesterday, today or tomorrow
I am always going to end up
Filling empty spaces while sitting in sorrow
~Alisa Hutton
Roll open the scroll of your life on the grass
Wide and long with gentle hand and thought
Precious parchment is sure to fray when harshness pours
Edges brown and beg to be absorbed back in to earth they once grew
The scroll may grow in length, assurance not your right
Sit with it in quiet, allow the rain to wash away that which is not meant for permanence
Ask for it, chant and pray if you must
Left on the wet uncomfortable quiet of the grass will be your timeless ink and legacy
When you shiver, honor stillness
When you hear only scream, honor quiet
When little is remaining, trust
Trust the story being left, the story being written
For that which is deeply rooted will not be washed away by the rain
Trust in gentle quiet
That which remains after the storm
Is
You
~Alisa Hutton
