Caution: Fragile - Handle With Care

I rarely feel fragile.

It’s a feeling I don’t like much.

I pride myself in being strong.
I play the duck quite well...
Letting things roll off my back,
Like they do water.

The glass is always half full.
Things always happen for a reason.
There is always something to be learned.
I believe in karma.

When I fall and stumble,
Or get the rug pulled out from under me,
I stand up, brush the dust from my knees
And continue down the road I travel.

Rarely do I feel fragile.

Every now and then,
Every once and awhile,
The fact that I might break or crumble and disappear,
Comes slipping and sliding into the armor I wear.

It slithers, like something cold, into the material I’m made of.
It wakes me up loudly...clearly,
As it ricochets inside me,
Like a bullet that bounces around, with no way out.

I am reminded that a glass half full is also half empty.
The duck gets lost.
I am submerged, suddenly, in water.
I forget how to swim.

It’s then I feel fragile...