The steering of myself is subtle
and tricky, since these dials —
the ones that I was taught controlled
my legs, my hands —
Turn out to have been only painted on
And the real controls
The ones that have the switch that lets me fly
Meticulously hidden for so long
I must remind myself each time
To leave the painted-on controls alone
To seek the hidden balance deep inside
And reconnect with what I’ve always known
To lean into the buoyant, flowing currents
Established when the world and I were formed
To catch the waves that carry me
along the perfect lines
where every move of grace has gone before.
©Wendy Mulhern
September 3, 2012
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