When we live within what’s comfort,
When my normal looms large and strong,
That is when I most likely lose,
any sense of you at all.
When I see you acting strangely,
I can quickly then conclude,
That is why I’m so much better
than you, the one whose plans are loose!
When I am struggling with things beyond me,
when I need fresh glimpses in my muse,
Then I am bereft of comfort,
As I stumble blind – confused.
It is your hand that brushes by me,
breaks into my thoughts and fear.
You are different, so see in colour,
while black and white just brings me grey.
It hurts my heart to need another,
I am scared and fear to trust.
When I open and face your beauty,
I find strength in your difference.
So to chose each day’s discomfort,
bridging difference in the storm.
As I rest in hope believing,
you’re my complement reborn.
Author – Bill Tidsbury