The middle, the part where you’re growing, healing, reaching for the sun
as the little plant pushes the scorched Earth to kiss the sky.
The time when you realize something’s wrong, you want to change but you’re not
quite strong enough to break free and start over.
The walk, the long, lonesome path to the finish line so everybody can cheer
and dangle a medal around your deserving neck.
The middle, the desert wasteland of little water and nothingness that lasts
forever until it ends.
The middle, space between blessing and curse, the pockets of joy that
surround all life and gives you a headache at night.
It’s the middle.