What holds us to the earth?

Waves

Innumerable,
hushing in soft -- I see that
giving is God's way

Green

Spring field rising up
with a spirit hand, waving
light in shades of green

Parting

Let these be my parting words: I hated loving you.
Always have. Always will.
I'm not going to say it hurts, not going to talk
about feelings -- never had a feeling in my life actually.
Goodbyes just as good as hello.

And this partings got me thinking about all
of those unfortunate people with their
connection, affection,
finding, binding, bonding, losing, grieving, mending, moving on.
Nine ways at least to waste one's vitality.

I'll loath the silence before the last words
we say to each other, and all of the predictable tears
over limits and why can't things last
and I'll never be the same and it's forever I promise.
I've no use for statements about what things meant,
no patience for what some say they'll always mean
-- in fact, who's got energy for everlasting anything?
Feel it and fling it, I say, I'll not wring out every drop for meaning.

Along the finest stretches, enjoy the road if you must,
look out the window, count the hilltops, kiss the breeze
but handle the brunt when the bend comes.
Wave a hand at what's grand and let go;
permanence is a brand of perpetual boredom.