out there…
inside a promising beam of light…
within the nurturing womb of change:
a scent of disharmony.
a pinprick of darkness.
an intuition of… trouble.
that is the word.
i think of trouble
because it is with troubled people
that i will be working.
and it is upon their troubles
that i will depend for my livelihood.
that is a troubling thought for me.
a… breaking thought.
how do i exorcise the possession
of such a thought
when it has taken me so fiercely
within its grip?
i have sentenced myself to exile…
so many times.
driven myself to madness
in the aridness of deserts without rain.
has any auto-expulsion ever felt like…
hurt like…
this realization that falls without warning?
but though i hurt… i flame.
not with anger.
not with sadness.
but with joy.
secretly…
i turn this thought upon its head...
i turn it…
i breathe into the pain
of that slow and crippling revelation.
i breathe into it gently…
and i sit with it patiently…
expectantly…
waiting for it to touch me…
waiting for it to teach me…
something joyful…
something new.
