Go Easy

It's Paris—among bougainvillea petals, she invites me to spin
The carousel turns, music rising beneath soft Paris skies
While it turns and turns, my grandma softly says
Go easy—the world will spin anyway.

Then sunlight touches my skin and the horses shimmer like something remembered
Come and see me, she asks me for a letter, a call, she misses me
The sun is high, life still young, and yet she repeats
Go easy—the world will spin anyway.

The carousel slows—first leaves drifting in the air
I missed calls. I missed the bread we once broke
The ache rises slow, like fog from a still pond
Go easy… the world will spin anyway.

When the world stands still and snowdrops fall on silent horses
Even if I wanted, I could no longer answer her calls
She never knew. From my hospital bed, I heard her echo—
Go easy…

And when the day ended early—frost gathered inside the window, not just out
No music, no wheel turning—only stillness dressed in white
She was gone by then. The carousel stood like a grave
Go easy— the world kept spinning. But not for her.

I wanted to step off—I wasn’t ready for the next turn
Outside the carousel, I stood, asking the world to pause
“Go easy...” echoed—not from her lips, but from somewhere inside
The world? It would spin. Anyway.

Now the carousel turns again—slow, steady, familiar
Bougainvillea blooms, not as bright, but still enough
Her voice lives quiet inside me, not asking, not urging
Go easy—the world will spin anyway.

You'll Also Enjoy: