I catalog all the waiting I’ve done
A lifetime of looking for finish lines
But I’m sick of standstills
They make every molehill a mountain
And then there’s still the real mountain
Am I halfway up or in the foothills?
I’m dizzy from the circles
Spinning out on the ground floor
I stop long enough to build a step, now more
They may not hold my weight
They may seem safe and then break
But if I’m going to keep spiraling
I’ll spiral upwards
With Love,
Natalie