PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

There comes a trembling hour,

when the past still hums beneath your soles,

and the new earth waits, untouched, ahead.

You stand, half-rooted in yesterday,

half-reaching toward the yet-to-bloom,

wondering why the wind won’t lift you.

Change, my friend, is a jealous lover,

she will not share you with your ghosts.

She demands you strip the old skin clean,

lay down the worn beliefs,

the rooms that smell of what was,

the familiar ache you once called home.

To step across is to burn the bridge

and bless the ashes.

It is to say: I am not who I was,

and mean it, even when your knees shake.

It is to walk naked into the storm

and trust that lightning will not strike

but illuminate.

For the greatest lesson is this:

you cannot sip from two rivers

and call it one life.

Leap wholly, heart, bone, breath, soul,

into the uncharted current.

Only then does the water know your name.