holding on to letting go

letting go of holding on

diving headfirst into the present

because there’s no time to dip a toe in

no time to wonder if it will be too anything

no time to wait for the right moment because there is no right one

just an infinitesimal series of being

it all exists in the doing

in the action of it all

in the movement of stretching head to feet to water to submersion

until under the surface becomes the new ground we glide across

it might never make sense but it’s not supposed to

because mystery is the engine of motion

beautifully inconsistent nonsensical disjointed

there is no chronology to this way of existing

and it’s here in the mess

where love finds us