rise to the surface – in process

I woke this morning
Filled with dreams,
With want

But the want frightens me
As I am unable to untangle it
From discontent
And heartache

But when I am quiet
And honest
My dreams rise to the surface
Like a sea turtle in mama ocean
Raising his head out ever so gently
Through the surface of the water
For a bit of air.

When I look them in the eye
I see they are not a thing
To be afraid of.

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Edge Walker

Walking through water droplets
is not a bad way to spend an
afternoon.

The water flows under us.

We move as it moves,
rhythmically, taking
the most logical
downhill path

until the earth
gets in our way.
Boulders and trees
and all manner of
non man made things.

You see, I am a graceful
edge walker, confident
in my ok ness but
afraid to leave
the comfortable middle.

Afraid to attempt the great.

The space between
risk and safety
love and fear
hope and hopelessness
is smaller than you think.

I have always loved
a good bridge, I say
as we cross over
looking at the
green water below.

Perhaps because
a bridge always
welcomes a
weary traveler.

The brave act of desire

Some days are long
and each tiny sin pounds
upon me like a heavy drop
of rain.

I don’t know what comes next.

We lose pieces
of ourselves out
in the world but
then we come home
and try to gather
ourselves back
together.

You are in
the backyard
on the tractor
mowing.

You are clearly delighted
and though I want to relish
my bad day, your smile infects.

Later in the
darkness I tell
you how my hopes
make me afraid.

How I have felt it
before, and the loss
that comes after.

We discuss the brave act of desire.

The warmth of
summers coming
makes me want
to drive our country
roads with the
windows down,
red hair swirling,
singing loudly
to the radio.

Though I am
comfortable with
the ridiculous,

I know that this
takes practice
and I cannot
hope to arrive
without it.