Sweeping Wide

I hope.
I sit here, thinking of all the things that have the potential to be
and I wait while
seconds tick by, counting down the fleeing moments
until I'll finally be able to make up my
mind?

What do you mean? Because
I was under the impression that there were
far more complicated
things for me to address- give attention to- dwell upon- live with.
And I listen
to what they say and what they know because I'm sure
that its more than I do.

And I see her, watch him
and her happiness in fussing over him
is infectious.
And I find myself sort of craving those
crazy things that it seems that absolutely pours out of them.
And then,
just to boot, I am taken back to moments in my life where I am really in that frame
I'm struck. When I should be listening.

I sit. I daydream. I wonder.
Why can I not seem to leap over
this last hurdle and fling myself over the top to
the seemingly 'fresh perspective'?
I pray.
Because I am desperate for the truth, to find some sort of uncovering moment
where I actually know. When I am actually
100% certain. I'm not. Ever.
And it pushes me to the brink until I am steadily falling faster and faster
into that swirling vortex.
Fishbowl.