self surrender

you don't feel like you have what you need
to move from this place.
you, sitting there in your chair,
with your blanket and your tea,
staring out the window at the rustling leaves
undulating in the spring breeze
writing poetry.

this is not stillness.
this is not simplicity.
this is not serenity.

this is you -- frozen.

just months before, your waters flowed freely.
there was movement,
a rushing toward.
but when you looked back
you found that you were rushing alone.

so you stopped moving.
your tears soaked you straight through.
the chill of loneliness washed over you.
and you have iced over.

what you call "stillness"
others call "anxiety"
that internal and unwanted "twitch"
is the uncomfortable feeling called fear.

you are afraid to move
because you are used to moving so fast
so far ahead of those whom you love
so that you can feel free

but now you see that you are untouchable
and you are afraid that if you move
to turn your head around
you will find that there is no one behind you

move.
but slowly.
stop running.
walk.
turn around.
find your way home.
there is love in that place.

and when you find someone there
take her hand
and learn to walk with her
and beside her
match pace.
trust.

you don't always have to lead--
you don't even know where you are going.