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!