What We Choose To Hold

How precious time is

And yet… we cannot hold it in our hands.

Just as we cannot hold thoughts.

Or memories.

Or secrets.

Or clouds.

Or rainbows.

We cannot hold these things between our fingers.  Or can we?

A child tries; watch her as she cups her small hands, together, slowly teasing one edge apart, leaning closer to you.  “Look,” she whispers, “this is where I keep my wishes. See them?”

What of wishes?

We must set them free, into the wind like dandelion blossoms. Count them.

Like blessings floating on air.

We cannot hold sadness in our hands.

Or pain.

Or fear.

Or anger.

These things we must set free.

We cannot hold happiness in our hands.

Or can we?

The entwine of hands in yours; skin to skin?

So what of love? Can we hold this in our hands?

What of time? Before we know it, it’s gone.

So hold it close.

Like thoughts.

And memories.

And secrets.

And love.

And joy.

And hope.

And wishes.

And dreams.

And ideas.

Hold them close. 

Then let go of the things you can no longer hold onto… let go of the things that steal your joy; hate, envy, greed… let all those things run through your fingers like water.

Like sand.

Let go of these things.

Hold onto only the good things…

Like love.

Like joy.

Like memories.

Like wishes.

What you cannot hold in your hands, you can hold in your heart.

How precious time is

And yet… we cannot hold it in our hands.

How precious so many things.




Be kind.







Happiness in your hands


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