It’s great to age If we don’t hold on too tight, The circle of life rolling Has a soft and open center Filled with warm colours. Nevertheless our defences No longer quite protect us But are breached in unexpected places Which feels like loss and pains But is the sweet vulnerability Of the world getting in. A fence full of holes, That divides one garden
Things are forgotten And swept away By a rippling river of lost moments That are not forgotten at all, But just don’t belong to anybody. Can we let the rushing waters, Not rush us But pour through us? We can, if, like the circle We are empty inside. And don’t resist!