Years have yawned since I was last restrung. Undone.
In time we forget how to take ourselves lightly,
Weighted as we are by phantoms.
But sooner or later our children’s voices
Will pool in the hollows of our cheeks
With all the questions we’d stopped asking
Soft limbs will seek our protection and we’ll realise
That’s what we should have been doing for ourselves
All along .
And though I hit every branch on the way down
The view was always worth it
For the colours it showed me whose names I didn’t know.
People say they wish they’d known then
What they know now
Well I want to know now what it is that will bring me so much peace.
But in place of having that certainty
I will walk blindly, hands outstretched and often on my knees
Knowing one day I will smile into the faces of my fears