Monday Poem: A Reflex for Survival

 

A Reflex for Survival

Holding on will happen slowly
as the fingers learn how to clutch
and never let go, like something
recalled from lost instinct.

A reflex for survival, a need
to go on living, despite the desire
to lose the self in falling down
to some deep, darker unknown

to lose the self in the mystery
of not having a name, or expectations
heaping upon the shoulders.

No rules and regulations
of what it is to live and how.
Right and wrong etched deep
into the very core of the soul,

so that each step taken
becomes the right step
and each step is the only step,

while always dreaming
of just letting go and falling,
falling down forever, never touching
this too familiar ground again.

Published by David Hadley

A Bloke. Occasionally points at ducks.

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