Keep Climbing — Poem by Belle Green

How often I’ve forgotten that weather

can sometimes be unseasonably cool,

setting the tone for what I’m moving

into, showing me the risks with insight

and information.

I don’t like the position

it puts me in, even as I keep a list of the

ideas and possible outcomes.

Moments of solace inspire me to stop

and look at a lovely tree, while my energy

is restored back to intensity, committing

to the shifts of apprehension with integrity,

including the involvement of priorities where

a seemingly insurmountable problem slips

into place smoothly in the blink of an eye.

I have spent a considerable amount of time

climbing, the sounds of the elements; earth,

wind, fire, water, Spirit, somewhere between

my inner hearing and outer hearing, occurring

uncomfortably close. Twinges of terror rise

within me, continually, in the struggle.


At one point I wedge and arch my body

into a comfortable position, trying hard to be

courageous instead of stoic. Release comes

on strong at one point as breathing becomes

emotional not physical. I feel things happening

in my head, unleashing vulnerability, but I keep

climbing, my legs structured and pumping, the

fence retaining the quality of slick grease.

The next step will be huge, as stability and balance

fight for recognition, yet I continue climbing

intuitively, building a stronger connection with my

diaphragm, my sternum, my pelvis, my femur. I

know that someday I’ll appropriate a new location,

relocated and functioning on a new level, but for

now, I am holding on just fine.



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