Past & Present Pull

A very recent and honest poem for you, dear reader.

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Past & Present Pull

by Regan Smith

• • •

I’ve been feeling off balance lately, 
pieces of my mind scattered across the long ago. 

My summer skin warmed by the afternoon sun, 
beneath a butternut tree, 
it’s beautiful in this place I call home, 
though I’m trying to recollect parts of my mind; 
some subconsciously fastened to the past, 
where I try to pull and pry them back into 
the present’s possession. 

But I know
I must let my hands lay limp; 
grow into this new scene; 
I don’t need to have my whole 
life together in a moment, 
not every word needs to be
perfectly placed; sometimes
life looks like a string of stuttered words. 

I share compassion for others, 
but find that I rarely give myself
breathing room or space, 
that I crave control; 
but that’s not what will 
bring me to totality. 

Stress fractures have shown a 
break in my foundation
from placing too much weight on 
myself and myself alone, 
mixing today’s fruit with yesterday’s, 
spoiling it all. 

But I will begin again, 
starting a new season with 
no ties to yesteryear, 
beginning with a prayer
beneath this butternut tree.