HIDE AND SEEK
I have sought You high and low, but like the rain, You have always found me. I, like a cold, wet cat on a winter’s day, peer into warm lit windows hoping You will be home. I seek, to keep me moving. You find me for some unknown reason. I have given up naming You. I trust You know who you are, in spite of the fact I do not. You are places I don’t know and doing things I think better of. Citing the list of errands I daily make for You, not to beleaguer You, but the unfinished list of history trails out of my pocket, and I worry I may possess Your only copy of this injustice list. There have been days of peace, days I don’t think too much, days I turn away from my history lessons and future projections. My ultimate problem is with the equal sign. I run the numbers and it figures inequity. I check my calculations and shake the calculator of my mind. Deeply, I fear You’re a one god and do not comprehend the implications of zero. If you multiply with only things above the naught, You may be unaware of nothingness, the empty things I feel when I can’t seem to find You. Self-possessed, insensitive of the cipher, Your dimensions stay positive. Bring me into Your realm or join me in the void. I seek You, but You have found me.
Weigh your demands and don’t let them tip your scale.
The swirl with the flash of teeth
that I backed away from turned out to be dolphin,
but that didn’t make me safer,
strangers are strangers no matter who their PR team is.
When I am out of my element fear grows long leads
and I am bound by these limits.
Who I am under new circumstances
is a discovery I make as time flies by.
Can I swim and play with exuberance
or will I drown trying to catch up?
I am able and disabled,
the line is tied from the back and I don’t know its length.
I unreel as much slack as I can and test my reach,
but still I must keep my wary eye and be careful of the deep.
You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault