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
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.