Jeans (corrected)

Jeans

As we journey through life, we lose bits of ourselves
like tattered cuffs of worn jeans
Lost bits of stuff, like dandelion fluff
and sometimes we’re split at our seams

At times our soul’s threadbare, our tears flowing free
Sacred sweet streams of saline
With nothing to draw from our downtrodden hearts-
just the comfort of worn out old jeans

As years leave their marks on both faces and hearts
Time passes, and lessons are gleaned;
the scars that we bear tell a story,
like a worry worn hole in old jeans

Weary and wearing down thin
On a journey, reaching for dreams
We learn to flex and move freely
like a pliant old pair of worn jeans

By the time we solve this life’s riddle
of just what all of it means
We then settle in; snug and safe in our skin-
like a comfortable, worn pair of jeans.

2/18/20  A.B.