Hm. I'd forgotten this.

Otherwise

After forty-five years, I've learned: be ready for the blow.
If I'm going to open my mouth
If I'm going to speak the truth
I must be ready to be told I'm Other.


I know this.
I know it so hard, I flinch from it,
I keep my mouth shut.
I make a joke to show I'm not Other
I'm one of You, just a little different, right here, in this area.
See? I do know it.

And yet, I don't know it.
Because everything I do has as much internal logic
as anything anyone else does.
The only difference is, they're mostly doing the same things
Saying the same things.
And I'm over here, singing to myself, & acting weird.

I'm tired of explaining.

I'm tired of stopping myself in the grocery,
wondering if what I'm doing is strange--
"You're buying carrots," I say aloud, "you're going to make a stew.
That isn't strange."
Except for the say-it-aloud part.
I can see that, by the way the stock boy moves quickly away.
"Stop talking to yourself," the irony making me giggle.

I want to be a nice person, but I'm tired of explaining.
I don't ask for explanations, unless I'm being hurt.
How is it I'm somehow required to explain
or else be rude?

It's not that I see malign intent.
I see friendliness,
I see concern;
but some days it wraps around me like a pall.
How many times can I answer the same question?

And how can I fly, with my wings strapped down?
Forced to explain aerodynamics before I'm released--
like I understand aerodynamics! I feel the wind inside me!

If you don't have to understand God to feel His love
why should I have to explain aerodynamics to fly?