Holding Strings Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Faltering, stumbling, catching myself at the final moment, no longer trying to hold onto visions surrounding thoughts and gathering closely in tired anguish.
Holding strings of pious faith, taking the advice of long ago conversations with a priest - a dear friend - who helped me find myself, in the midst of all the turmoil of young adulthood.
Scattered remnants of those times are strewn within my brain, never let go of so I could always remember their times and reminisce through life, never forgetting where I came from and how I once felt.