Naked, it feels, in a cafe,

at work, or a family gathering.

Bargaining with God

this can’t be the deal Lord!

They think I am a fool

They tell me I am a fool

Am I a fool?

Sacrifice God sure –

but why this one? 

Why are the beautiful things in my life

foolish to the world?

My nourishing marriage to 

a man who far exceeds my years.

They make me sweat

They arouse dystopian fears.  

The jobs I chose on a hunch

they berate with silence.

The park home I buy 

so close to nature

they don’t visit.

They don’t ask about my foolish pursuits

their minds are already made up.  

It hurts when people sneer 

Even though you only wish them cheer

So you pack away your sweet dreams

try to conform and accept

their definitions

their black and white

their blocking of the light.

Your strength is sapped

in this concrete underground

as those perfect in the eyes of the world

fill you with doubt.

Dizzy and a bit crazy now.

you cannot recognise yourself in the hall of mirrors

in their perfect world.

You feel such loss 

your insides are empty.

Then, if you are lucky,

or blessed,

terror like lightening strikes

suddenly.

It illumines the iron yoke,

the golden handcuffs.

And in this moment of clarity

you run.

As if your life depended on it

– which it does.

Your run to the husband you love

to the cat you treat like an egyptian god

to the house filled with birdsong 

to the jobs that fulfil you emotionally.

There is always enough provisions 

on this journey.

And as they look at you

trying to hook you again

You hope you do look truly foolish

For Eternity.