Fragile Things
Are the bravest
Fragile things are the bravest.
At any moment they might be crushed, shattered, dropped, dispersed like wingless seeds into the pathless void.
Yet they remain unblinking, owning their fragility, claiming their place, the right to be seen,
shouting with the infinitesimal voice of a drop of water spilling from a cloud:
I am I
and if we are lucky and pay close attention we may gently brush against each other both fragile, both brave, and smile.
With a warm THANK YOU to Trista Signe Ainsworth for her mind-opening prompt # 46 “ A fragile moment you are grateful for in your life”.
As is the way with prompts and poetry, my mind leaped first to an actual moment, then veered away into imagery, in particular, images of fragile things. Presented in my mind as a kind of out-of-control-cavalcade, I saw images of delicate glass vases, snowdrops (the flowers), snowflakes, beads of water clinging to blades of grass. . .
All of these fragile things are connected in my mind with moments of both transient and transformative beauty. I hope that whoever reads this poem will recall flashing, fragile moments of their own to treasure.





