Swing

I don't always carry my load
in this community of humans.
I can't. My grip falters.
I fall over my laces. I lose a shoe.

Somehow it seems as though I could put one foot after another foot after another foot
But it's as though you asked me to ascend a wall of this house.
The air gets heavy.
I can't breathe.

Today, someone held my heart in their hands
Working and working,
And with the skill of an artist encased it crystalline webbing,
Making precious, the fibrous pulsing inside.

I performed near-miracles yesterday,
Flicking problems away like displaced ants,
But the universe craves balance, you see,
And the winner's platform is pulled away and I fall.