I wrestle with doubt

and doubt that I’ll win

  I mean…           . . . I might just do . . .       . . . maybe this time . . .

I could pin it silent at the moment of decision;

     clamp down so tightly as to eliminate any chance at all

                                      of uncertainty.

I try to imagine how sweet that must feel,

     To have not a peep of doubt at the moment of choice,

and I doubt my imagination would do it justice

         or that it ever could be so.

It’s harder still for any of us to see

         that as we struggle mightily to pin doubt down,

it is the doubting

                                       that is pinning us right where we are.

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