Conflict

returning from a meeting, i find my rational mind in utter conflict. it questions how i feel and then i wonder...what is it that makes me repose my trust in him? he asks me to act with intelligence then why am i ready to follow his directions blindly.


folded hands
mocks the self,
but i wait
for my turn.

your gaze
searches for the frisky
and i curse
my surrender.

flighty feet
fears the tangle,
but freedom i find
in this desire.

feelings embrace
flashing solace,
but words tumble
anguish laden.