The journey 


So I’m carried along

and it’s slow and steady to begin with
but the path is smooth, man-made.

It’s ok, but I don’t get to choose where to go.

The ground becomes uneven

– it had to happen at some point I guess.

I feel the bumps and bounce around

I put my hands out now and then

finding the sides, the edges.

I don’t feel safe but

I close my eyes to make it better.

Suddenly there’s a jolt, bigger than before

and for a moment I’m weightless, with a feeling of freedom, a rush of euphoria;

then I’m on the floor and lancing pain rams through my brain.

Grit embedded in my knees,

and palms I can’t close;

it’s going to take ages to get the stones out

and I can’t do it in my own, not with damaged hands.

I look at the upturned wheelbarrow-

why did I ever think I’d be safe in that?

A bucket on a wheel that can’t even work on its own.


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A man who is trying to find a place in the world of today, and daring to hope there is work out there to energise and fulfil. I have a lot of life experiences and reflections to share, from a rather neurotic, self doubting perspective(!)

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