Let go with your eyes, not just your hands.

I wonder about the full implications of surrender. I think about Jesus and his implications, “Give up everything, pick up your cross, and follow me.” He couldn’t have meant everything. Surely this requires a fair bit of explanation, the rule must be situational, there has to be loop holes, or maybe it just doesn’t apply to everyone. There is a beautiful metaphor that churches use, the image is that of “holding on loosely” so that you keep what you have in your hand openly so God can take it and use it however he wants at any time. I like that metaphor. In practice I prefer it and will likely continue to apply its principal to my life. But I think of Jesus often as a Radical and I wonder…could I give up everything. I don’t really have an answer nor do intend to tell anyone how to live their life. All I can do is write. So, let love once again be my platform. This time to show what could happen when we hold on too tight.


Let go with your eyes, not just your hands


I stopped myself from searching her eyes.

Nothing remained of our final kiss,

No crystalized dew beaded her lips.

I halted myself from guessing her face.

Nothing was left of friendship.

Just the obligation of farewell hugs,

The handshake of two bodies,

Sterile, tasting like business.

What I knew once is a shadow,

Now hidden in the shade of a dark form

Cast by the confident swaying hips headed

Forward toward a different life

Lighted by dusking light.

Feeble shadow searching

Cement my eyes to the ground

To ease lamenting love,

A proud curse by which I’m bound.

There is nothing to be found

In the shapeless black body

That stretched, danced and disappeared

From sight when the sun burned out overhead.

Nothing of myself left.

Even in the morning light when

Our shadows mixed on the sidewalk

They passed through one another,

Refrained from speaking,

Only soundless speech of eyes diverting.

Only memories prove we were more than

Shaded bodies that danced together,

When we moved in and out of the

Shadows that were everybody else.

You and I danced on hardwood floors,

On the sheets of a bed,

Upon the fountains of a future

That we dreamed together in our heads.

We took our bows, let the curtain go down

On all of the promises we made

That our hearts couldn’t keep.

Now, when I see your shadow

Stalking silently across the pavement,

My eyes downturn to the stilled

Surface of the earth that remains sunlit,

Unbathed by a black dancer.

I refuse to fall in love with cold shade,

The sun’s white reflection will hold me instead.


I welcome your thoughts.


2 responses to “Let go with your eyes, not just your hands.

  • Dad

    I imagine carrying a cross takes both hands with no room for anything else. Aware of my impotence, letting God rule my daughter’s, my son’s, my wife’s and my own life. Surrender indeed ! Love Dad.

    • sport152002

      I imagine it also takes an extra set of hands to hold the whole distance in which God intends us to take our cross. Who knows where the story of surrender might have ended if God did not have Simon of Cyrene. Surrender may have fallen short of death at Golgotha, and instead remained buried on the spit stained streets of Jerusalem’s scoffers.

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