Uncertainty, the uncanny muse

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I grapple with you,argue with you,

One moment - I look at you stupefied,

And then,the next - look at you with disdain.

Your presence is the only thing of surety,

How ironic indeed, that I am certain about uncertainty.

I don't know what to do with you,

But I do know that you won't let me get away that easy.

Not until you have ingrained your lessons in me.

But is this the price that I have to pay for something else?

You have rendered me uneasy.

You smile a crooked smile whilst you explain my predicament:

That you are the only constant till my last breath.

And when you embrace me,I am overwhelmed.

In a corner I sit, seething within,

I seem to have reached my wit's end.

I try to make sense of our camaraderie.

But you don't give me peace - no,

You make me over-think and over-analyse,

Is there a word describing someone worse than a "cynic"?

Now I am afraid to trust and let things in.

I fear vulnerability.

I try to find solace and clothe myself in words,

Because that's how I make sense of things-

By putting pen to paper;

But these very words, I do not trust.

As if you could ever explain what actually goes on in a person's mind.

As if you could ever really share a human experience.

As if words even suffice and do things justice.

Between what is said but never meant and meant but never said - a lot is lost.

Only a poet knows how useless words are!

So let words go take a hike!

Uncertainty - You make me yearn for a cliff,

I feel like I am at the edge of a precipice - looking over the valley.

I clamber about trying to find a sense of belonging,

And ask you how I can restore balance and find my peace.

You tell me that I should learn to enjoy the beauty of not knowing!

To stop trying to figure things out - to relinquish control!

That the Universe knows best and that-

I should let go of the things that I fear to lose!

With a cold stare I explain to you-

Some things are too important to let go of,

You tell me - I can only lose the things that I cling to.

I tell you that's paradoxical;you tell me it's the truth.

That nothing is permanent and Mine to hold on to.

Things change.

From the best friend who packed her bags to leave,

To the man who professed his love for me,

To the absolute chaos that my life is now;

Things will change,if I give it some time and make some room.

I can't have all the answers immediately,

Because the very nature of the questions change;

I must do away with instant gratification.

Despondent at that thought,I sigh.

You ask me to consider, if perhaps, everything is perfect the way it is?

No matter how uncertain, unclear and painful.

This only means that:

If everything is Uncertain then the future is still Unwritten.

I can have as many drafts as I please until I get it right.

As I stumble across, trying to find my way,

Uncertainty can serve as an uncanny muse-

Who reiterates that in the end,

Everything will be okay.