Life sweeps me up sometimes
In beautiful and wonderful ways
Yet in the sweeping
Frequently dust will rise,
Leaving things once clear
A little fuzzy.
It all becomes a blur
As events just rush on by,
Each day runs into the next
And I’ve forgotten pieces of
Who I am.
A constant struggle between
The piece of myself
Which has control and comes to the forefront
Depends on circumstances of the day.
I love them all and miss when they
Take a back seat.
I long for the day
Where I can have them
Together front and center.
The pendulum has to swing out wide
Many times before settling in the middle,
So I’ll wait in patience
As I swing in opposite directions
Until the swings begin to shorten and slow
Landing me centered and grounded.