#28
Doubts
I am not good enough.
Words fall and fumble out my mouth
in gasps I never meant to say;
and I feel the world's ridiculing stare -
I am only an awkward gesture,
passing and forgotten.
Lines and shadows hack and stagger
across my canvas in protest.
Paints become mud, and I can only stare -
blankly and tired and frustrated;
no images of grace and fertile spring
lay still enough for my slow eyes.
I am not good enough to climb the spiritual mountains,
and I am too weak to confront my future
while I cling to my past with the spoiled hope
to bring back yesterday's sun again;
though I close my eyes and whisper it'll only rise for tomorrow.
I am not good enough to let it go.