Joy
She is fleeting, nimble, delightful
I knew her well, once, as a child
beaming with the brightness of life and curiosity
all was joy in fields of grass, dappled sunlight, running, laughter, and love
Gradually, she receded as I layered shame and shoulds
growing up became a molding akin to binding the feet
seeking relief, I found joy in escape
but the escape became the trap
Emerging from the damp and dark, I see her there in the distance
crying as I write this, I see her there clearly beckoning to me
she’s just out of reach
I stretch and strain unable to bridge the gap
I fall to my knees and lower my head
what is it I’m to do? how do I do this?
why can’t I rest in her easy embrace?
how did I muck this up?
It is then I feel the tap of acceptance on my shoulder
she says nothing was “mucked up”
you’re not broken, rest, breathe
you are loved…and I’m always with you.
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