By Marian Glaser © January 2005
My life path will meander pleasantly along
a sunlit brook wandering through tree shaded,
flower sprinkled meadows when storm rumbles
switch my day-dream landscape from quiet pastoral
to jagged rocks barely emerging from huge waves.
I can’t keep balancing on this wire perched
high over ravenous mouths reaching for me
and pits spouting fire. My feet feel each inch,
moving forward falteringly, hoping
each step will lead to a safe shore.
When an icy patch makes me glide rather
than teeter and trip, I feel more confident
that the next step is possible, whether the terrain
is firm or not. I can learn to ski the impossible
seeming slopes, skate that ice, swim that river,
or do whatever else is necessary to move on,
breaking this frozen stance, letting arrows aimed
at me bounce harmlessly and not assuming
that random shots are meant to wound.
Each step gained moves me farther,
closer to a desired yet ineffable