Holding On

We are hanging by a thread,

suspended like a spiderweb

that has been broken.

Flailing in the wind, unattached,

but for that one solitary strand

that clings to precious life

day and night, through

wind, hail, and downpour.

Straining to hang on for

one more day, one more night,

under beating sun, and

the thin dim light

of a vanilla moon that

guides as us surely as

the pole star. That

broken compass is

of no more use, so let it loose

and focus on that

which can be controlled

and hold, yes, hold

on a little bit longer.

These storms shall one day pass

and we will regain our grip

on this world.