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.