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This peace is so tenuous:
I feel as if a single sneeze
could snap its thin string.
A sudden turn, a mere blink
could break a calm
Iíve worked so hard
to create.

Then Iíll have to cast
my line and try
to hook that fish
again.  Try once more
to fly the kite
all the way
                to the opposite shore.

Perhaps my fear
of losing the peace
makes the string
feel so thin.

Either way,
I suppose my peace
is not so peaceful.
Perhaps my peace
does not really exist.

But no--as I listen
more closely, I realize
that the quiet I feel,
though tenuous,
is definitely real:
a balance that this
imperfect man
has yet to perfect.

But Iíve finally decided
not to consider the cost
of all those falls
when I measure my success;
consider instead: the amount
of my honest effort spent.

© 2008 Michael R. Patton      go back

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