Busy day, busy mind;
Your call breaks through the stress;
I prep for it to stir up more.
But, your voice doesn’t wield the
Usual, subtle razors of critique;
Bafflingly, it carries actual kindness,
Something occasionally offered, but
Nothing I ever dare to out-and-out
I long to embrace it,
Declare it authentic.
Yet, it’s all too much like
Stepping out on a familiar precipice;
Scenery’s always so similar-
Pretty promises swirling round,
A delight to see, but a bit
Precarious when your view zooms in
On the distant ground.
Been here a thousand and one times,
And still find it no place to
Comfortably or safely recline…
And I find myself flinging my forever
Questions once more on the line:
When does the footing slip?
When will the ledge give way?
I know this tranquility easily rips.
Just want to know what moment?
Don’t want paranoia to paralyze,
Want to take the gifts that come.
Yet, don’t want to entirely surrender
My watchful eye;
Not quite ready to risk a heart’s
Not when I only get one.
So…a smile into the phone with hope,
But, a firm hold on the protections
That help me cope.
I know mistakes may very well be
Just down the road;
We are all only frail, truth be known.
But, as I grow into this, my
Happy, protective abode,
I find the strength to finally arrive
Decidely into my own…