when I pull back from me,
setting a pace of-
unsettling-
I want to reach beyond,
pass the comfort zone-
of escaping,
when I meet,
silence with openness-
and not stifle it with,
the chattering of my mind-
wasting time,
when time-
becomes the treasure,
of living-
when ordinary is the moment,
I grasp-
when living out loud is,
too heavy I retreat-
perhaps in fear or hiding,
but when I look-
at my spirit clothed,
by my human skin,
human ideologies-
layers of thoughts,
that were yesterday’s memories-
the creep across my,
rising though-
I find that I can,
squirm in this unsettling-
or rest,
with letting the silence-
of my soul,
soothe my untempered quaking-
I tremble only to see me,
waiting for as I am-
to try again and again,
steps that accept-
pause and movement,
at the same time-
loving myself through,
to the other side.
setting a pace of-
unsettling-
I want to reach beyond,
pass the comfort zone-
of escaping,
when I meet,
silence with openness-
and not stifle it with,
the chattering of my mind-
wasting time,
when time-
becomes the treasure,
of living-
when ordinary is the moment,
I grasp-
when living out loud is,
too heavy I retreat-
perhaps in fear or hiding,
but when I look-
at my spirit clothed,
by my human skin,
human ideologies-
layers of thoughts,
that were yesterday’s memories-
the creep across my,
rising though-
I find that I can,
squirm in this unsettling-
or rest,
with letting the silence-
of my soul,
soothe my untempered quaking-
I tremble only to see me,
waiting for as I am-
to try again and again,
steps that accept-
pause and movement,
at the same time-
loving myself through,
to the other side.
Author Maureen Kwiat Meshenberg ©
