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.