i always fear
what people might say
when they find out i’m
a poet
-the world tends to have
trouble when the
real mixes with
an unexpected dose of
imagination.
to many i am like
a banyan tree
rooted and secure,
certain of the path i walk and
unwavering in my pursuit of
that which i know
but in reality i am
the wind that blows through it.
i twist and i move,
making things bend and
changing direction when
something calls my name
and i’m not sure of
what the world would
think of that.
an inconsistent writer in
a stubbornly immobile world
so i resign my life to
pen and paper,
shield my personality behind
moleskine journals and
composition notebooks
i share sparingly and
read copiously,
delving into stories more
realistic than i and
allowing myself to explore
the unthinkable
and maybe i could
be braver,
escape the invisible window
that separates me from
the rest of the world,
speak my truth as confidently
as i do my order at
a coffee shop
but i am finding comfort
in the wind
i see rainbows in
muddy puddles,
wear soft socks on
rocky ground
drink tea in
unusual places,
carry a book
whenever i go,
drive under the speed limit
to make sure i don’t miss
the view
,and right now
that is okay.
if all you can do
is all you can do
then maybe all you can do
is enough.
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