You don’t need to be inspired, to write a poem.
You need to reach down and touch the thing
that’s boiling inside of you
and make it somehow useful.~Audre Lorde
I am
enough.
But,
sometimes,
it seems too much
waiting to be borne through me.
All tangled up
in my
humanity.
I don’t
always
have space,
nor do I like waiting,
especially
on myself.
Trying to understand
these movements.
It’s not that frozen
is better
than boiling.
It’s not.
Even if necessary
for a season.
I’d rather be
that river
flowing with surging rapids
over a path
worn through centuries.
Confident and sure.
But the way forward is new
again.
Fresh with opportunity
and uncertainty.
Picking and choosing
a way
forward,
hot springs
bursting through
ice.
Jagged edges
submerged,
but peeking through.
Crystal clear.
© 2016 Chris Paige. All rights reserved.
