Tumble

I don't want to stand under someone's wing or be overshadowed.
I want my quiet strength to speak louder than any audible voice.
I want to stand on something solid
be that ice, or cloud or ocean.
I don't want sugar-coated senseless words to slip off my tongue ever,
But in always watching, asking, offering an ear
All the laundry drying in my head
Tumbles.
It seems you have to be a magician
to pull the lost change out.

Out my mouth
my words, my thoughts, my heart
Tumbles.
But I am still lost.
I've changed, am changing,
stretching wings and shuffling feet
checking in the mirror a little too often to see what others see
in my eyes and soul
when even I don't know but fragments
clips of dreams and hopes and doubts and filtered sunlight
I need to trade scissors for glue and recreate
This collage that is me.