“The Will To Let Go”
Body heats up, the temperature rises,
The quiet creep of intense passion, the tingling beneath the skin,
Like an artist diving deep into the blues on an acoustic guitar,
The haunting, the unfamiliarity, the shivers in the body,
Yet a longing to dive in further and farther,
Until I can finally let go…
Is there not a land made up of dreams and magic?
All dark and beautiful, beyond fear?
There must be,
For all imaginations have some fragments of truth,
Or they wouldn’t conceive in someone’s head.
And this one has been in my head since forever,
Pulling me in relentlessly, like gravity,
Like an addict longing for heroin,
Or an artist longing for inspiration.
And this one demands that I let go,
Let go of all there is,
Of all I am made of and all that surrounds me,
The materials, the crowd, the chain of unrestrained thoughts,
This one demands all of me,
My life, as it is.
And to tell you the truth,
I’ve had moments where I almost did all of that,
Touched its skin and came tumbling back,
Scared, unprepared,
Losing a drop of sanity each time.
There are moments when I’m willing to let go of everything,
But I resist,
For now.
The will to let go is strong
But I persist,
For now…
The kind of writing that shows up uninvited, barefoot, at 3 a.m.
