we must be brave

by Linda M. Crate

the problems all seem too near the
solutions too far away
grasping at straws
doesn't mean that you'll obtain them,
and so i try to meander through meadows
taller and sharper than i remember
in all the pastures of
my youth;
yet the golden light of sun star
still pours through
allows me to know that somehow we'll
get out of this mess—
no one gets out of life alive,
but i want to live
while i'm still
living;
so i will conquer all these mountains,
and throw these rocks so hard
that streams will skip
instead
of stones—
i will speak with my voice because i will
not be silenced by fear or remorse
i will protest what is wrong
even if i'm standing lone
on that beach;
we all make mistakes,
but i want mine to mean something to teach
myself and others to keep their hands
away from the flame;
sometimes
the only solution i can come up with is
breathe and it can be satisfying
just to let it go—
we cannot control everything,
and as much as we hate to admit it there are
things pushing us of which we cannot
stop,
and so i keep moving
because life will mow you over like
a lawn mower devouring grass
if you do not move,
and unlike the grass you will not
grow again unless you have enough nerve to
do the things that seem impossible.