Improv (a poem)

I have always
planned on
being spontaneous,
and I guess that
the planning is why
it’s never really
worked out.

I am not good,
as a rule,
at letting things ride.
It a little bit
terrifies me
because, really,
who knows what
could happen?

Except this one
tiny space I’ve
carved out in my life,
this one room,
this one stage,
this one game.

Where week after week
I show up and play
with the moment at hand,
and dare, for awhile,
not to plan.

This messy, artful game
is teaching me,
that there’s magic
to be mined
in unplanned living,
in earnest presence,
in hopeful discovery,
with each beat of being
that finds you
and dares you
to grow.

I am learning
that fear is just
one brave breath
from excitement,
and maybe thrilled
is the way I want to live.

Because, really,
who knows
what could

One thought on “Improv (a poem)

  1. Pingback: All The Poems I Wrote in Lent | Reverend Fem

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