The Disarray

Life is not smooth.
Life is hard.
Given to uncertainty,
Complexity beyond
Belief.

It is irregular. Unpredictable.
Kind and sometimes
Cruel.
Whitecaps on a stormy sea pulling
A man under.

Life is exhilarating. Impermanent.
Digressing. Depressing. A disarray.
A fucking mess
At times.

Then so wonderful and fine I cannot
Remember why I felt so bad or scared
Or why I wished
To die.

But my mind wants guarantees:
Successful outcomes, satisfactions,
Good feelings.
Control.

Could it be this disarray
Is my source of
Creativity? Fueling my fears,
My frustrations.

A force of good at work
In all our lives.
An underlying presence that understands
Our needs.
A protection that will catch
Us when we fall,
Even when we do not
Believe.

I reach out as blind as I can
be.