I watch it all slip
Through my hands like
Sand,
sifting slowly
sinking
Down falling
Fast
.
—oh,
but
a
few
grains remain,
Caught
between my fingers…
For now.
{What a joke! I never “held” a thing.
I simply scooped a few
fists-full
out of His hands,
Frantically
gathering what I (thought) I could grasp whilst
He
was holding me.}
I release the rest…
He remains, unmoved.
And here I shall abide: hopeful —
And held.
The Rock.
All other: sinking sand…
– EstherV
