Part of your wisdom portfolio

A poem in a tercetric trimeter of my devising, meant to be sung. Sing it aloud slow and deep, dear reader, like Amy Winehouse. Chorus in bold.

Letting Go

Grabbed at it, said, ‘stay’,
But it just slipped away,
My fist closed on dismay.

I see if I’d rushed it,
I sure would’ve crushed it,
In my craving ruined it.

It’s good I let it go,
Free to fly high and grow,
I’m wiser; now I know.

So tell me it will keep,
Forget it, do not weep,
The price is just too steep.

I let it float on free,
Drift out gradually,
And glitter distantly.

Give it the time to change,
For nature to arrange,
A stronger new linkage.

If I wait for a while,
It’ll come back with a smile,
And slake my old desire.

It’s good I let it go,
Free to fly high and grow,
I’m wiser; now I know.

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