pieces-parts

Three parts thrilled and two parts terrified,
One part waiting and one impatient,
One part hesitant and two parts fearless.
And in the middle of all these pieces
Clicking and whirring to life in anticipation
Of closeness and touch,
Desire and fear together are the monkey wrench
In my machine
Busting up the smooth flow of things
With their sharp requirements.
And yet my heart is resting on Your Voice,
That one soft place where all makes sense,
Where all is free.
We’ll work it out.
In time, everything works itself out.

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