Standing at the river’s edge
I look down upon the churning rush
How deep and dark at first inspection
Ominous of wrath and fury
Sharp rocks, I spy
Would meet my entirety
Were I to foolishly
Put faith in the current
As I, still, ponder this risky endeavor
I realize that my trust is mine
And mine to freely let flow
Wherever whim and spirit guide me
I make up my mind
To follow my heart
And hope that these waters
Prove friendly enough
Moving forward
I step lightly into shallow torrent
Cold at first, I shiver
But body shuts out cold and locks in warmth
I feel the urgency
Of the water’s intemperance
And its need to reject
A believer’s acceptance
Defiantly, I continue still forward
On my resolute mission
For I sense that this turbulence
Is but reactionary folly and misdirected trepidation.
-Marisol Tena (6/8/09)
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