Notes About The Poem
This poem was written in the throws of a difficult period of my life, I had been second-guessed, told I was stupid, had my business undermined, and was working nights, several of my poems deal with this dynamic.
The Trembling Best
The Trembling Best
I lay my heart upon the altar of the daily, grinding task,
Trying to be everything that the world and heavens ask.
I pour out every ounce of will, I stretch the tether thin,
Fighting back the hollow voice that whispers from within.
I give the best I have to give, with shaking, tired hands,
Tilling soil that feels like ash across the desert lands.
But even as I labor, there’s a phantom at my side,
A shadow born of all the times my spirit had to hide.
I am haunted by the "not enough," the fear I’ll miss the mark,
A flicker of uncertainty that shivers in the dark.
I wonder if they see the seams, the cracks within the mold,
The shivering of a person who is trying to be bold.
It’s an aching, heavy burden to be trying with your all,
While waiting for the gravity that dictates you must fall.
I second-guess the kindness and I over-read the stare,
Searching for a judgment in the very literal air.
I am a builder on a cliffside, working through the gale,
Terrified that everything I touch is bound to fail.
Yet I keep the hammer moving, and I keep the vision true,
Even when the doubt is thick and hides the open blue.
For there is a quiet courage in the person who persists,
While fighting through the inner fog and the psychological mists.
My best may feel like glass today, fragile, sharp, and clear,
But I’m standing in the furnace, and I’m working through the fear.
I’ll offer up this effort, though it’s wrapped in worry's chain,
And trust that God can see the gold beneath the mental strain.
I am insecure and striving, I am weary and I’m real—
A soul that’s learning how to trust the very things I feel.
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