I take a step,
then another hesitant one.
Where am I now?

Not far.
Two steps done,
I am still where I started.

Slowly, shyly, I stroll on.
The unknown lies in front of me.
What will I find?
I don't know unless I walk,
unless I carry on.

I look around and walk,
afraid of falling short,
afraid of regressions and old wounds.

I can not to stop.
I must go over hills
and learn to live again
with this fumbling heart of mine.

What is trust?
Hesitantly, alarmed
and afraid of breaking down I go.

Facing Self