Find your Footing
I’m told to find my footing; yet, there is no foundation.
An earthquake has shook my life and cracked my ground.
I am in rumbles of concrete pound by pound.
My fortress I built brick by brick has collapsed.
The walls of protection have caved in and have kept me trapped.
Once made of bricks have turned to sticks and straws.
My inner core has thawed.
I have upset nature’s law.
I feel naked; clothes stripped off my skin.
I am an animal carcass depositing in the earth open raw.
As I decompose, all liveliness goes.
The dead man inside is exposed.
Find your footing, but I can’t lead my feet one foot in front of the other.
I’m stuck in quick sand.
I’m sinking in deep.
They weigh a thousand tons.
I’m in the middle of the road blinded by headlights.
I can’t move. My body and the car will unite.
Another casualty of a hit and run.
Find your footing, but I’m paralyzed.
No movement in my legs — I am not mobilized.
There are no footprints to follow in the sand.
The shore has washed them away.
I’m a pilot descending for landing, but there’s no destination to land.
It’s not feet first that makes surface with the dirt.
It’s my head that reaches the turf.
This concussion that leaves me conscious of what hurts.
I found my footing along this crooked path.
I hit bumps, turns, and blocks in the road.
I even fell down some sunken holes.
I got into a few wrecks.
I fought my way along this trek as I let go and let the universe take control.
I felt empty walking alone on this vacant stretch.
I am whole and not a wretch.
My fear always hit the emergency break.
My paranoia gave me a tension headache.
I cannot live walking sleeplessly and not fully awake.
In life, what is the end goal?
May the earthquake stop to shake and give me the balance to unroll.
