i am at times
but a leaf
drifting and blown by
winds of fear
and grief
and
i am bent yet
unbroken
though i weep
as thirsty as the willow

but there is grace
in the fall

when i land
when i
bow down
You
step up
and i rest my spinning head
on your feet

and oh
the soft
soft hand
of your presence
holds me
still
and i drink

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