I walk through this haze of trepidation slowly
for this is a dangerous task.
My assignment: breaking silence.
But I left caution at home
and weakness overcomes me.
(they say this is where power is made perfect.)
Yet I wear my failures and faults
while I cherish the sweetness of memories fading
as if they meant nothing --- is that how I'm supposed to feel?
Why is there struggle if it's a passing attraction?
I think I see the motive of hesitation:
Insecurity holds you carefully at a distance.
sometimes I touch the sky
(easier than touching your heart)
and still I wonder --- this gift of God
who do you belong to?
A quest I have long followed,
Yet the answers are blowing backward into the wind
I know so little of the insights you see in me
I forget the meaning of love
maybe I never knew.
An exercise in faith,
accompanied by longing for more
(how could I?)
yet still incomplete.