The Universe, Kites, and Sadness

What is it I seek,
day after day,
week after week,
searching for space,
presence
and the grace
to accept the things I cannot change,
courage to change
the things I can,
and the wisdom to know the difference
between hanging on and letting go,
falling in and falling out,
to be and not to be,
what is me and not,
what I want and what I’ve got,
where I can and cannot,
and the difference is my belief
in what things mean,
the hidden
and the seen,
how things feel,
the real,
the true,
the distance,
the you
I thought
I heard
that day
in that way
where what I hear
is not what you say,
and so we drift
across the rift
and the expanse
of happenstance and chance,
and we dance
and we lift
ourselves up
past the sadness
and the mire,
higher
we rise
past blue skies
into outer space,
searching for home
and place,
the unusual,
the faint trace
of childhood
and the joy
of simple things,
laughter,
chocolate,
Saturday afternoons,
full moons
and sand dunes,
beaches
next to glass houses
that shimmered
at dawn,
perched on the edge of a tomorrow that never came,
because all things end,
and there is no name
that can explain
the pain,
or the grief,
the memories
and the belief
we carry in our hearts
in bodies that feel foreign
as we age
and outgrow
what we love
and what we know,
so I hold on
to what I let go,
and fall past earth and sky,
move past the how
and the why,
I live
and I die,
and try
as I might,
I’m a single example
of the plight
of the human
in its race
to be heard
with all its might,
8 minutes away from the sun
and its light,
we ride moonbeams
out of sight
into the night,
the universe is the string,
and I am a kite.