Short poem reflecting on how we must loss something often if we want to gain. If we hold onto everything, we can grasp what is newly being placed into our hand or life.
Step by step, door by door,
creak by creak, hear the floor.
Window pain, Stops the beak
Lying still, Not a peep.
Pull my leg, Spoke a Word
Raised my hairs, Felt, not heard.
Make the sign, Of the cross
Bless my soul, Gain from loss.
I must die, To receive,
No more blind, You believe.
Step by step, door by door,
creak by creak, hear the floor.
Window pain, Stops the beak
Lying still, Not a peep.
Pull my leg, Spoke a Word
Raised my hairs, Felt, not heard.
Make the sign, Of the cross
Bless my soul, Gain from loss.
I must die, To receive,
No more blind, You believe.
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