Wednesday, August 14, 2019

On All Days

On some days,
my thoughts are like butterflies.
On other days,
they fall like anvils from the sky.

On some days,
I can concentrate and be patient.
On other days,
all seems in upheaval and nothing done soon enough.

On some days,
I am one with the universe.
My love flows freely from me, without limit.
On other days,
My emotions are a wrapped, sealed bottle, my heart
secret even from myself.

On some days,
energy pulses from my fingertips.
I am creative, easily. I have many new ideas.
On another day,
I can only remember the embarrassments,
the mistakes. And I equate those moments with my worth.

On the toughest days,
I think I am not meant to be here.
That there is no hope.
No reasoning.
No derailing and no
fixing this.
All signs point
to my leaving.
And I am not sure why you are still here.

On brighter days,
(And there are so many,)
I can see
our delicate balance,
how we curve,
where the other bends, extend--
And how we need each other.

And on all the days,
I dream
and explore the breadth of this
inner tapestry, I give
it voice, even in uncertainty
and soak in the strength of its letters.