on the mat
grappling with a competitor
I didn’t expect to be so strong
so nimble
so impervious to my tactics
(my pitiful, predictable repertoire)
he saw every move coming
now I flail to defend
straining, sweating
one shoulder down
impossibly fast
my reliable wind failing
it occurs to me:
I may not win this
I may be forced to concede
and what does that look like?
is it a defeat
or am I being trained?
is it even possible to lose?
what is really on the line?
what colors do I represent?
if I didn’t righteous my way in
how could I heresy my way out?
can a big love
a soul-swallowing grace
blow up the supports
for this old house
and build something new
in its place?
can I submit to this?
is there a win
in this pin
for me?
can I accept
throwing out the old rulebook
can I live with
and happily pursue
a game
everybody wins?
about to find out
March 2011
