by Brianna Schullo

Blame retrograde. Blame stars and space and God. 

I was told that there’s no edge of Earth but

Here I lay, teetering and tottering.

 

Bad yogi, footing failing. “Take a walk,” 

Mother says. Picking up my mat, I trip.

My left brain- too heavy, right-brain- too light

“Beware: insanity” picket fence screams 

 

Stable? I wish! Mental gravity pulls

Spirit down. Wait and see.

The inevitability hurting all. 

 

Then tumbling body caught by none other than balance. You! Engineer of guidance. 

My savor. Karma pulling strings. You

Are stitching the cuts and slashes of life.

A quilted masterpiece covers me.

The mind is patched.