Letting Go After the Wind Storm
This morning
there’s a dusting of snow
on everything
as if the world has
been salted. Yesterday
it was so cold
and still, the
view was a painted
landscape. It
was difficult to believe
the displaced
trash can across the street
had just recently
been scooting
down the road
from the wind,
the trees
waving, branches falling
to the ground,
garbage flying
to distances
unknown. How things
change as the
days progress. I still
think of you,
but the terrible ache
feels more clouded,
your memory
farther away. Is
this what it feels like
to let go? I’m sorry I could not be
perfect for
you. Two days ago
I was touched
by three different people
and I felt
relief, the diffusing of
a nailed
balloon that had been
piercing my
chest. So this is what
it is like to
be cared for. I had forgotten.
I have a life
you do not know.
I am building
new roots, reaching
new soil, finding
new comfort.
You are still
within me somewhere,
always, but this
new life is what
you wished for
me. The growth
after the windstorm.
The salt
after the
stillness.
Let spring
come.
I shall wait
for her. I
shall be ready.
by Julie S. Paschold
aka Tansy Julie the Soaring Eagle
1.24.26