Soft Place To Land.

When the waves threaten to over take or the momentum of a spiraling out of control-ness washes ashore to the very essence of my waking mind, I stand still. I stand very still. Pulse ringing in my ears, heart beating in my throat; I am absent of anything relative or anything present. I am only aware of the still standing, and the standing so still. But when the ground begins to shake and the  foundations my hands have gripped – loosen, scatter, and break apart, I realize the monstrous wave I was waiting for to take me down, crept up behind me unexpectedly, knocking, flashing, and twisting me endlessly. A breathless act and a merciless pull, I release myself into its currents and chambers, praying continuous for a soft place to land.

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