This hurt is like a boulder.
I am stooped from the weight of it.
I can't move, I can't remember my life
before the crush of it.
Take this boulder and make it smaller.
Something I can lift off me
for a moment so I can breathe.
Take this boulder and make it a stone
I can hold it in both hands,
small enough to walk while carrying it.
Let it get even smaller as the days pass.
A stone you could skip across a lake,
watching the water ripple as it flew.
There are so many stones on the shore,
some small enough to fit in a pocket. Some
sharp edged. Some smoothed down from
a constant worrying rub.
Take this stone and make it even smaller.
A pebble.
No doubt there will be stones in time.
But for now, make this as small as a pebble.
I can carry a pebble.
The Weight by Susan Moorhead | Sandalwood Poetry Reed Diffuser Set
20,00 US$Precio
