Events.
Half-awake and stranded between the old
day and the new
coming tomorrows may look leviathan,
loom like clouds
of sharp-sharded, unreliable giants where
trust becomes sun-leathered
with nowhere to hide,
muscle-bound and most of the time
muddy-eyed.
But after a sip of memory\'s liquidity I can
shake away weighty foreboding
and see where faith
has been leading events,
toss off stifling clothes and walk nakedly
sure into the indistinct future
with shoulders high.
Facing fate with a smile of anticipation,
happy with being alive and
moving forward,
life\'s battles will lose a bit of their scary
sting as I dip grateful toes
into the moment.
Composure is all I shall need.