I am standing on a precipice.

Waiting for direction.

For inspiration.

Some say I was born to work.

That I am driven.

That it is my gift.

To weave inspired ideas into the exiting fabric

For the good of the people

And the planet.

But I am a warrior without a home.

Between jobs.

Between places.

Standing on the sidelines.

Seeking a new perch.

A home.  A community.

Terrified that I may never work again.

That I am seen as too old.

My skills obsolete.

I am holding the in-between time.

A practice in patience.

An exercise in faith.