Hold Me Down

By Ina Grace

A river, though it slows, 
It always passes by 
And are the blueish hues its own 
Or borrowed from the sky? 

A piece of clay can take a shape, 
And then so many more 
And every wall that bears a paint 
What is it, at its core? 

And those who knew no home to last 
New form to fit new place 
Ceaselessly forever ask 
Which roads they must erase 

Which strings are those that I must cut 
And from my heart renounce 
And will there after be enough 
To ground and hold me down 

If I let go 
What I hold close 
Will there still be 
Inside of me 
Enough to hold me down?

Ina Grace is a triple citizen (American, Filipina, Spaniard), who has also lived in Germany, Netherlands, Denmark and Sweden. She dedicates herself to the art of homemaking, which involves both planning and administering domestic affairs as well as monitoring the healthy development of family dynamics in her home. She’s a philosopher at heart, always interested in the “why” of things.


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