If you don’t cling to it
You lose it,
These small things
That bring brief joy,
This is the stuff of life,
The so-called distractions
We later realize
Are what we most miss
When they are gone.
We live our lives
Riding dusty trails
Or dusty barns,
Aching to break free
Into clearer air
Clinging to the reins
Of what will never
Turn out to be
A runaway horse,
And yet,
Takes us on
The ride of our lives,
Down trails
We never meant to take,
To places not too far away,
Yet far enough,
The happy trails
Less taken,
Yet desperately needed
At this moment in time,
Allowing us to carry on
When it another light
We might lose it all.
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