Balancing

By Marian Glaser © January 2005

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My life path will meander pleasantly along

a sunlit brook wandering through tree shaded,

flower sprinkled meadows when storm rumbles

switch my day-dream landscape from quiet pastoral

to jagged rocks barely emerging from huge waves.

I can’t keep balancing on this wire perched

high over ravenous mouths reaching for me

and pits spouting fire. My feet feel each inch,

moving forward falteringly, hoping

each step will lead to a safe shore.

When an icy patch makes me glide rather

than teeter and trip, I feel more confident

that the next step is possible, whether the terrain

is firm or not. I can learn to ski the impossible

seeming slopes, skate that ice, swim that river,

or do whatever else is necessary to move on,

breaking this frozen stance, letting arrows aimed

at me bounce harmlessly and not assuming

that random shots are meant to wound.

Each step gained moves me farther,

closer to a desired yet ineffable

goal.