This Is It.

A poem about resilience.

I’m dragging. Dragging the arduous weight Of my soul, my body. I carry the brittle pieces Of my child’s fragility, A mountain-sized responsibility. Each step, Each second, Each new day, One foot in front of another, Dragging. Myself. My family. My life.

Somewhere, somehow, The burden lifts. Protracted, gradual, Like grains of sand Leaking From a continent-sized dune. A new day, Dawning, bright, hopeful, I feel, at last, The burden lessen, A little.

Is this it? This life? The dragging and wearisome? The slow, drip drop Of time. Is this it? Resilience? An ability to sustain, To bear the load, To carry a mountain, To lug love and its luggage? Planting a seed, For the bright future, A lush future, jungle-like, Where hope luxuriates, Optimism is eaten as snacks, Buoyant anticipation is served as a side?

I am made of rubber. I bounce. I stretch. Again and again. Stretched beyond recognition, snapping back To a different me, a soul changed, a mind moved.

This is it. This is life.

I wrote this piece in response to Trisha Traughber’s prompt. It took me on a journey, as writing poetry often does, to places I have been, rested, hated, languished, loved. Sometimes painful, sometimes joyous. Thank you, Trisha, for the prompt, for getting me out of my self, for encouraging writers. ❤ Your prompts, messages, and newsletters are greatly appreciated.

Lisa lives and writes from her home in the Åland archipelago in Finland. To stay in touch, check out Northern Notes and For The Love.

~thanks for reading!~