Day 113 – Another Beast

From the moment my fingers
close around my glasses
I am another beast

They close around steering wheels,
dry-erase markers,
red pens and credit cards,
zippers and shoelaces,
milk cartons,
band-aids,
and
chalk

but when they hold my glasses
like you’d hold a climbing rope
a stress ball, a life preserver;
like you’d hold a newborn,
a lightsaber, a key

I am ready to read
I am ready to see
I am ready to be free

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Year 2: Day 103 – Breakfast Faith

I’m never sure if there’s any cereal left in the box
but I get out a bowl and pour it anyway-
there’s enough doubt in this world
without ruining breakfast.
If I’m out, I’m out,
and I know how to get more.

The same is true for many things;
it takes faith to ride elevators
and faith to drive
and faith to raise children
and faith to write.

I’m never sure if there are any words left in my fingers
but I sit at the keyboard and pour them anyway-
there’s enough doubt in this world
without keeping silent.
If I’m out, I’m out,
and I know how to get more.