nearly present in the moment

wake up!   

consciousness--what a mixed blessing. . .

just to get through a day
we have to suppress so much that pulls at us:
doubts that hold us back from even making the effort,
even thinking we’re burned once
shies us away from another risk,
fears that we’re not worth it,
that somebody made a mistake, somewhere,
and that mistake can be us,

we can close our ears to the calling
that clearly tells us how much we can be
while we fear the effort involved,
the stumble inherent in the roughness of the path before us,

we can fear being driven and delude ourselves
that we are our own masters
while passions and fate whim us this way and that,

I wonder if my fear of heights partly comes
from the abyss always below us,
and into which every life must fall,

I love the play, Our Town,
for it slaps me awake,
at least for a time,
and I can be as nearly present in the moment
as the moment deserves.

by Henry H. Walker
November 30, ’12