Lately nothing fits
Everything expands and contracts around me
Like a balloon going from hot to cold
Cold to hot
Full to empty
Where is the light?
I know it’s hidden there behind the clouds of doubt
Growing roots beneath the surface
the seeds of doubt and the seeds of confidence germinate
side by side
Their roots intermingle and sprout,
both reaching for the light.
Whose leaves will roll out and catch the golden rays?
Whose buds will bloom?
Which will attract the buzzing bees?
To which will the bee fly and pollinate?
Which will shrivel and die and which will drink that light?
Lately nothing fits.
Everything is too tight or too loose.
The chair too small.
The bed too hard.
The porridge too hot.
The world…too big.