On the Fence

On the fence
where aversion and craving meet
not liking present moment
wanting another place, another time

I get caught in the prickly embrace
of barbed wire
a familiar feeling from way back.
I used to think
something was wrong.

So much unpleasantness
could not be normal,
and I would make up stories
about why.

That was before I knew,
we are all sitting on the fence.
Somewhere between breaths,
with heart and mind both willing,
sweetness awaits.