On Letting Go

One of my dearest friends (coughcoughAnneJohns) wrote the poem below. I always love reading it. Luckily, this morning I found it randomly tucked away on my computer (as was my hope in tucking it- that it would I would be able to discover it once again).

On Letting Go

I have a tendency to grab

onto fragile things

like stems of dandelion seeds

I hold them tightly

block the breeze

worry they'll be swept

from my tightly clenched fist

my crushing grip achieves

more damage than my fear

disfiguring the treasures

that I hold so dear

but when I allow the wind

to whip them from my hand

I watch them

spreading, rooting, flourishing

when I've let them be

I find them growing up all round me

little yellow jewels

the wind served well

that wouldn't have ever grown

if my hands had not let go