Can I give myself this gift of time
instead of feeling chased?
can be put off.
Can the trees come alive in their absence?
The kitten encircled on the grass laundry basket,
my chest rising and falling with breath.
Can this moment be enough?
Put aside my struggle and striving,
the calling phone, its digital whirr.
Can celebration be something quiet?
A kind of gentle holding.
The questions don’t need answering,
the dishes dirty in the sink,
unsolved, emails half-written.
Those people who are waiting for me,
maybe they’re just living their lives.
Let them live their lives.
All these un-peel themselves.
Thoughts come off
like discarded clothes.
All complete in its incompleteness,
the way trees don’t miss their leaves in winter.
Poem by Maia Marie
Learn more about her work on her website.