A Shape for Holding

all of my short life
I have mistaken holiness
for loneliness

holding
for emptiness
and emptiness for lack
and anticipation
merely a shape for holding

at least for as long
as I can remember

now I am finding a place
beyond memory
a place impenetrable
yet welcoming by its nature
entered in the forgetting

when I thought I was still young
I witnessed the threads of life interwoven
and the colours of the wind

when I thought I was older
I saw the farness beckoning me close
but I only jumped within my own body
and retained that memory
of separation and futility
that left me screaming in my dreams

when I grew older still
I found the path in the walking
and sensed belonging in the restlessness

when I thought I was as old as I am now
I realised the people and places around me
are living beyond my perceiving
yet I must still live with them
sometimes dreaming, sometimes waking

now the winds are blowing hard
I have left my perch
the perch itself has disappeared
I am forgetting how to perch

my mind is unraveling
in taking my contemplation of the tapestry
to dry the dishes with

the horizon is slipping from view
like hope

leaving me standing here
in dreams, in waking
feeling anything but forgotten

loved because I am here
which is enough

aching
through the numbness
like a story in the telling
like settling into a place

home
in all of life

at least, this is what I have written
but I am not ‘there’ yet
which is what being here means
after all

it is an unsettling feeling
and I would like to talk with you about it

(Simon Williams, 18.8.2012)

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This entry was posted by Simon Williams.

3 thoughts on “A Shape for Holding

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