I'm afraid, all the time. I'm jumpy. I'm alone. I'm scared of all the possibilities. I'm scared of the realities. I'm scared for myself and for mine.
The sense of calm I find here and there comes in brief, lapping waves, that never submerge me.
The sense of peace I seek out is as ephemeral as the seabreeze. As unpredictable and short lived as the spray.
When I think I'm at the shore, my feet are dry.
When I think I'm resting on the warm sand,
I'm in the undertow.