and washing over the deck
like storm breakers at high tide.
The bobbles in this ride
have become a rollercoaster ruckus
and my stomach is queasy
I want to bail out,
to hurl myself onto a bridge
over these troubled waters
and head for shore and shelter
to hide my soul from the pounding.
What if this water is stirred to trouble my chains
where I’m enslaved
by worn out beliefs and stale fears
that shush me into polite paralysis.
What if it’s churning with longing
to break me loose from my moorings
and set my heart out to sea…..wild, weightless and free
From within the shrieking winds comes a low humming
that offends and defies my survival instincts.
“Wade in the water
God’s gonna trouble the water.”
My head tilts.
And yet…..it’s there
like a soft warm breath in a hurricane.
And so I wade on into the waters
And “crack!” goes the heart,
trouble chipping away at the hardness,
scouring the rough edges smooth
and polishing the bits like sea glass.
(Wouldn’t it be cool if I could finish this piece with a beautiful bit about some lovely mosaic being crafted from all the polished pieces of me. Can’t. I’m still undone. All I know is that I’m all in….I choose this process and, like me, it’s unfinished.)