I
once trusted
every
standing bridge
I
came to,
that
it would hold,
carry
me over
to
the other side.
Now,
I doubt.
At
each crossing,
a
hesitation.
Experience
has taught me
wolves
dwell among the sheep,
chaff
remains midst the wheat.
Rotten
planks. Weak foundations. Slippery stepping stones.
My
eyes have fooled me
more
than once
on
this account.
But
fear won’t have a stranglehold
around
the neck of my indecision.
I’ll
keep walking
even
when I have to close my eyes
to
see.
©
2016 Jennifer Wagner