Hanging on devours me,
as if I were attached to a limb,
green and fresh,
with no possibility of breaking.
My heart and my hands
are calloused.

I imagine the limb snapping
on it’s own.
I am fearful of letting go,
deciding to release
and experience new ground.

Forgiveness will benefit my soul.
I know that, though I
remain hesitant.
The earth below looks
inviting and restorative.

Clutching the limb is
destroying me.
So I jump, and rest
on the cool sweet ground
of pardon.