A poem for our generation. We always “want to control the ride,” even when we know we can’t.
We Cannot Surrender Her
Try as I might to urge her on, she will not go.
She sends me on to test the water
but remains on the shore.
Ankle deep and then no more.
Fingers trailing and then no more.
Having once found a false bottom,
she trusts no foothold.
The falling is the thing, I tell her, yet she holds back from the fall.
Let me go down, I beg her.
I will always bring you up, she answers.
This is the role we alternate being the stand-in for.
What I want she keeps me from.
What she fears I pull her toward.
How many of us, children of the fifties,
find ourselves on this seesaw, wanting to control the ride?
Relax, I tell her, but she can’t relax––fearing what relaxation brings.
She cannot surrender herself. I cannot be content until she does.
Two-in-one, we rail against each other, then hold hands.
Comforting. This is enough, she tells me.
Nothing is ever enough, I tell her.
Source: We Cannot Surrender Her | lifelessons – a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown
Categories: Guest Blogger, Photography, poem
Thanks for reblogging, Marilyn.
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This one spoke to me. Maybe too loudly at that 😀
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Well, sometimes we whisper and at other times e shout.
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Those two sides are really pulling at me now. Since losing weight and my phlebotomy, I am energized and part of me screams out for a new adventure. Another part, especially in this time of Coronavirus and no vacc yet, says to be safe. Friends asked me to go with them to San Miguel (for their anniversary celebration..ha) and I am actually dying to go.. But fear that might be all too literally true if I do. I haven’t been in San Miguel in years.
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