The first odyssey is a difficult one
To step out into the blue and hope not to fall
But fall you will. Usually fast and quite hard
The next time you walk out yonder
It’s with more care, but the result is inevitable

Sometimes you leap off the cliff.
Sometime you inch off of it
Sometimes you don’t even see the edge

Eventually the landings become easier.
Your knees cushion you.
Your arms splayed for balance.
Is it getting easier?
No!

Sometimes you hit every outcrop on the way down
And land in a broken heap on the shore
But you know what
You’ll do it again, we all do.

you rubbed the
grey worry stones
over and over,
that were found in the Chest,

                                        treasured or pandora's box, what else was inside?

patiently losing
kind parts
of your fingers,
massaging

                                     with printless tips, losing all identity, such sacrifice!

the still stones
hard with worry,
until the worry
fell away,
           landing and curling
           like shavings a
            Carpenter's work
           would leave  behind,

and the stones
began to look
like red and
soften up some

you took it in stride, no pride or boasting, no scolding no holding it over my head,

                                                          ­                    
you never faltered,
you went and
stood silently,
watching me
tire each day
from my new
and advent-
urous ways,

behind me to
remind me
there was safe-
ty in your arms,

                                                          ­                        tall tales told of night time fictional conquests, lies about lying with strangers!

the pink flesh
you wore, never
turned green
knowing we would
find each
other
every
night

                                              
till dawn
              and morning
                                   light glinted
                                                       of your hair,
                                                                ­           your smile,
adding colour to the design?