Glass Ball

In my hands I hold a ball of glass, So fragile it could almost break... Filled with all my emotions: Fear, uncertainty, restlessness and ache. Carefully, I move the glass ball, Between my two hands... Filled with all my good intentions, That no one understands. I am afraid of the shattering... Of the breaking of the ball, To show that I am vulnerable, I am afraid of the fall. The ball rolls from my hand... Tt bounces on the ground. It rolls a little further... Then lies there to be found. Fear is pounding in my throat, I thought the ball would burst. The expectation that it would break... That fear is the worst. I was afraid of the shattering... Of the breaking of the ball, To show that I am vulnerable, I was afraid of the fall. In my hands I hold a glass ball, It fits exactly in the hollow of my hand. It has settled softly there, Quietly cherished it can mend.