And what of trust?
To those we look to as experts.
Of the words they seem to know
And how to say them.
And how we listen,
While simultaneously doing mental math and somersaults
Through the invisible space of our open hearts.
Are we wondering if it might be safer to close up?
Not wanting to exist inside the constricted lines
Of facts and charts that are
Supposed to mean so much.
Of numbers and interests and
Future payments and diseases.
The mechanic, the dentist, or the salesman.
There's a consequence for every decision.
They won't remind you of that.
And trust? Trust what? A word? Your word?
Your skillful or unskillful understanding of my needs?
What of trust?
This gravity that we've known since our first explosive entrance into the light.
Our first experience being held.
Trust is just a word that doesn't do justice to its layers.
Some may say it requires a leap of faith or intuition or good research.
But I don't know.
And that is the truest truth I know.
Trust isn't an open book,
Or unconditional support.
Perhaps it is the weight of surrender?
It's tugged at me all my life,
yet it is the most foreign sensation I know.