(Note: This poem on advice was partially inspired by the unpublished ruminations of a friend who then helped edit it slightly.)
As I Walk The Balance Beam
"I know," I say, but do I know?
"I see," I say, and put on your shoes.
I understand, but yet I'm me,
And so I know from my own mind.
I feel, I think, all that you say.
I'm wise - compared to myself.
I pen my wisdom as a gift
But keep it on my own shelf.
This line I draw exists just here;
I try not to let it run or blur.
It casts a shadow, builds a wall,
Yet through it all I'm with you there.
Unsure, I guess, but sure at once:
I'm scared - I listen, guide, pray.
The haze, the rain, it interrupts -
I don't think you see what I say.
I keep you far, but bring you near,
With trust - I open the seam.
Yet all these things I do with care
As I walk the balance beam.