I notice how far less seems to throw me, the small seems small, and so much seems small.
I am less ruffled, the edges have been smoothed off.
This is not to say I am an angel -- bringing light
and love to all I meet. The contrary is true.
My real me shows up more often, and I like that.
And, like this stone that has come home
and been swept out to Lake Erie over and over again,
I am more willing to dive in, experience
more and more incremental fear.
I have been picked up, looked at,
weighed for my value, tossed out, put down,
and still I am glossy, still I am still,
as the friction erodes away the useless,
and I wait to to be taken as far out as I can travel again.
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