Afraid To Let Go Poem by Mark. A Heathcote

When a singer touches your soul
Like a freight train blowing its whistle in a tunnel,
And makes you shiver
From your head down to your toes,
With a tone and a frequency
That delivers what the heart feels,
Understood since the first tracks were laid.

Doesn't it make you want to cry
Drawn to the light at the end of the tunnel
Doesn't it make you want to
Put your arms around the world
And hold it like a small child does its mother.

Remembering something of that womb,
That first cord you were ever bound to,
Before a protective barrier
Became your first instinctive move —
Clinging to a vertical rope,
An abseiling novice afraid to let go.

A nurturing hand on a cradle
Soothing night terrors away
The same dark that holds the tunnel
Unapologetic, saying I've got you.