The Beckoning Top Poem by Margaret Alice Second

My new colleague perplexed as I jump for joy,
singing happily on completion of my document
- but you don't like translating, she accuses; I
explain I hate climbing the mountain, getting
caught in brambles of dissonant meanings

And meandering pathways without rhythm
leading me astray, but once on the top I love
the view, the feeling of accomplishment, the
happiness of having made the trek uphill and
not faltering along the way and rolling down

Telling her I love the life I hate to live - she's
quiet, doesn't make sense - it's just as I say,
I love the final outcome though I detest the
anxiety as I stumble and slide my difficult
emotional way to the beckoning top….

[8 October 2014]