Field of Life

Sometimes,

we have to try our best

to leave it all

on the field of life.

The grass is glistening with dew

in the early dawn hours,

while our hands are clutched

to our chest, as though we could dare

begin to protect our hearts.

Vulnerability and authenticity are so tied

together, that it seems impossible

to have one,

without the other.

I stand, facing west

looking at the great, blue expanse

that is the mighty Pacific.

Her waves ebb and flow,

crash and retreat, in time

with my breath.

I think about all of the times I’ve felt small,

and I turn,

and face the sun rising in the east.

I stand in that window

until the beams

warm my eyes, as tears are pricking

and I feel like I need to lie down.

I steady myself, and inhale 5…4…3…2…

one deep breath in,

one deep breath out,

for all of the times I felt

scared, and yet,

I went in feet first, anyways.