brittle, supple

Amar Shah · brittle, supple

To stop going limp,
it wasn't a given.
Didn't know that I'd make it
to the pure, salty turf
past the stern, owl-eyed judges
or even—what luck
—onto the bench,
the junior, inglorious, butt-shelving
bench of the team.

I didn't believe I could,
didn't know I would
not crack but bend,
not hide but emerge.
There are winners and losers,
I thought, and I knew which one

I was...not in the stands
with the cheering supporters,
high banners reading,
You have to be strong
to bring back the gold.
I was at home
with the critics,
envying, quaking,
afraid just to watch,
to be reflected
in the glare of the screen, in
the puddles
of Mom's tears.

But now I know
that to go long and hard you cannot be brittle,
and
arriving, you must
stick to the landing,
soft.