It seems I am forever
in the in-between spaces,
traveling back and forth
between some kind of groundlessness
and some kind of groundlessness,
some kind of lost
and some kind of found —
and always another part,
trying to make meaning of it all,
to sort it into some kind of right
and some kind of wrong.
It’s a trap, I know.
A no-win. A dukkha —
a suffering.
There are days
I can step out of that lake,
its sediments swirling,
and let the water settle
until I can see through it again.
But that day is not today.
Today,
it is hard
being human.
© Sabrina Santa Clara, 2025