Holding Rope by debgrant
Breakfast with a hummingbird
when over the shoulder of my house came
a beaded thread of larger birds.
Too high to recognize
except for their migrating pattern.
Their string constantly shifting but alining,
tugging the line one way then another
as if they were nursery school children
holding a rope.
Do we have a holding rope?
Did we lose it? Have we dropped it?
Have we re-purposed it for hate?
How will we find a holding rope?
How can we agree to hold it?
We can always let go.
We know too well how to let go.
How can we agree to be the holding rope
that holds us together as we push and pull,
as we find our way home?
(This is my first ELOGOS post from a new list service called Substack. Let me know if you have any problems with it. I will do my best to address it. Thank you!)