Its not the weight but how you carry it-
loaded onto your back
like a pack mule
or ahead of you
wheel barrowing down the lane.
No,
it’s more how you think and feel
and digest
all manner of thoughts and feelings-
how your tongue feels
as you voice
those longings and fears
or maybe how your lips part
when you sing
a love song.
Or maybe it’s just that everything we think is heavy
is just as light as a feather.
Rising balloons tied to a string
or tied to your heart
maybe you are light hearted
and drawn to whimsy and mirth
or maybe glum and in need of a digestif
or a good hearty pat on the back.
Maybe you are light on your feet,
dancing up a storm
or a jig or a pas de deux,
balancing between sky and earth.
Its all a balancing act, you know.
We are not merely players on a stage
but acrobats
and clowns
following the gypsy caravan
with all our worldly goods
tucked into our backpacks
or pushed along in our barrows-
light hearted
or not
its all in how you carry it.
(revised)
The Course of Our Seasons 