Dying on the Vine
A Poem
Some days it feels like my hopes and dreams are dying on the vine
I can’t make them come to fruition I can’t will them into action or success because they were neglected or I was intentionally neglectful because the process was too hard
I want to wither away and disappear so the vine can’t find me because when I think about it, it’s not my hopes and dreams that are on the vine, but me, climbing indiscriminately to get up higher, knowing that once I get there I would have to climb back down
But maybe, in retrospect, the vine is my lifeline a pull of emotion from head to tail and my job is to stay on it, steadfast in the discovery that I won’t die on this vine I am not dying on the vine I am living and the vine is breathing with me, breath by breath
© Jonathan Greene 2020
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