Fluid

It runs through your fingers,
like water.
You can't quite grasp it,
hold on to it.

No, it won't let you.
Slips and slithers,
trying to get away.
Please stay?

It is air.
It evades you.
Like smoke.
It disappears.

Into the atmosphere.
Never to be seen again.
You tried
to hold it.

You tried
to contain it.
But air cannot be
contained.

Free.
Light.
Untethered.
As it was meant to be.

You can't train
the untrainable.
Clip their wings.
And birds will never fly again.

It twists and turns
to get out of your grasp.
Struggle ensues.
Let it go.

An invisible bubble
surrounds.
A warning sign.
Stay away.

It is fluid.
It is water,
wind,
fire,
air.

It is invisible.

How long
will you hold on
until you realize
there is nothing to hold on to?

Hold sand
in the palm of your hand
and watch the grains slip out
by the millions.

It will be gone
soon enough.
Can you learn to
let it go?