I am made of the things doubt is made of :
Questions in the night
Shadows gathered together as the light dims
Blurred lines and late-night musings
Confessions after the certainty wears off.
The things I refuse to touch;
the knowledge that I don’t know
but make my home in the place
of hope anyway.
That edge between assurance and doubt
that lets me fall either way on any given day
And my best is a balancing act on a wire.
If you want to know where I am,
You can find me there
placing one foot in front of the other
arms outstretched for balance
hope in one hand, doubt in the other
head aimed at the end of the line.
© Rehema Njambi
Prescribing_Poetry 