FRIDAY MORNING MUSE

Many plates spinning.
None are controlled.
Wobbly and fast.
Be patient, I’m told.

Not related to each other.
But perhaps they are.
Just need them to stop.
Stop without a scar.

Trauma keeps surfacing.
In such random ways.
Causes confusion.
Lost in a corn maze.

Faith is strong.
The plates will slow.
Bad turns into good.
Through patience, I’ll grow.