SITTING ON THE FENCE

It would be sunny sitting on the fence.
There you can swing your heels above the mess and mud.
From there you can see the filaments parting inside split hairs.

There, you are rocked to sleep by the tip and swing
Of the scales nodding to right and left extremes.

But these times are storm and hail, dismay
Like drumming, urgent rain.

Time to get off the fence,
Nail the freak flag to the mast,
Let myself down from the silent tower
By a skein of my own hair.

Nothing was built or bettered by folded arms.

Stepping from the fence's shadow

I stagger, but find myself standing.

So *deep breath*

I stand with bee.
I stand with badger.
I stand with fox.
I stand with dolphin.
I stand with kittiwake.
I stand with forest.
I stand with underdog.
I stand with sustainable.
I stand with outsider.
I stand with difference.
I stand with diversity.
I stand with colour.
I stand with courtesy.
I stand with humour.
I stand with gentle.
I stand with wind.
I stand with ocean.
I stand with cyclist.
I stand with walker.
I stand with introvert.
I stand with peacemaker.
I stand with refugee.
I stand with misfit.
I stand with spiritual.
I stand with science.
I stand with vulnerable.
I stand with other.
I stand with broken.
I stand with compassion.
I stand with no label.
I stand with love

large enough

not to have to prove itself

too

tough.