keeping my head above water
floating about
reminding myself that I know how to swim
the world is my oyster
not everything that washes up on the shore is mine for the taking
I’m not sure my mind is really taking
well to the adjustments
this body is making
And to whom do I make this out
to what do I owe the pleasure
it is the friendly doctor practicing prayer and psychology
possibly the punchy lecturer with a knack for pushing my buttons
could it be that a crash
so often found between hardrock and wind forces
found a home in me
how do I trust that I won’t be thrown into the mix
wet with blood and sweat and tears
unable to differentiate the dusk from the dawn
my heart beat a reflective ebb and flow
I await still waters
knowing He’ll show