Poems

In the Eye

Life rages haphazardly like a whirlwind. But I have not been swept up in it

I stand in the eye of the storm with my feet soldered to the ground.

Life does not happen to me. Rather, it happens around me.

As I stare out into the storm, I realize that I have become a side character of my own life. Simply waiting for my cameo appearance.

I measure time by other people's milestones, wishing every time that I were counting my own

Waiting for the day I can be free of the metal keeping me stuck in place.

I don't know yet, that there is nothing tangible binding my feet to the ground

That the screws welded into the earth are nothing but fear. Powerless once realized.

I convince myself that the storm is dangerous. Too unpredictable to brave on my own

Reassure myself that the screws are protecting me from getting tossed about like a ragdoll.

I've never liked pain, so why take the risk?

I don't know yet that the scars will make me stronger

That the bruises will fade, and the breaks will heal but it will mean that I have lived.

Those who have braved the storm speak about their wounds with a reverence that frightens me.

So I take their stories as cautionary tales, and vow to never fall prey to the headwinds.

I don't know yet that they speak of these scars fondly

And somedays, I stare out into the storm and wonder if maybe I can bear a break or two

Because my legs are getting tired of standing in the eye

If only I knew that the first step is hardest, and the second will bring endless adventure

But I don't know yet.

So I take a seat, with my feet still soldered to the ground, and wait for the storm to pass.