The grip, it tightens
There’s no letup
We weaken, it strengthens
The grip is equitable
Every thought suffers
Escaping remembrance
A tall order, from a center
Warmed by the body
Extending everywhere
The grip never falters
It is a lifetime’s effort
To give it the slip
Its hands become subtle
As we grow our wings
Destined to be grounded
Feet cannot help us
There comes a moment
When it slackens, finally
We’re free of the grip

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Niranjan Seshadri

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