Risk is always involved
When I open myself up.
To be open is to be open
It’s easy to think I’ll be open to
Love, joy, understanding
But to be open, is to be open
Including sadness, pain, confusion.
And yet to live without risk
Would be a sad, lonely life.
I’m not willing to put away
To avoid the risk.
But every time
A tear appears in the folds of my heart
Tears roll uncontrollably down my chin
It feels like all air escapes me
I wonder if it’s worth it at all.
I question my belief in risk.
Is it better to stay away from the
But then something always happens,
Some light always shines,
Proving that to be open allows
Wonderful things to happen, allows
Love so great it outshines all else
To fill me up completely.
What happens to when you take a risk?