My first attempt at poetry in quite some time

Not Yet

Do you know your breaking
point? That tender moment when
harmony surrenders to bedlam?
We’re not meant to be
flesh, blood, bones,
not iron or ageless or
immune to everyday sorrows.

Do you inch to the edge of your limits,
peer over and gasp at the immensity
of the fall? Nudge rocks off
just to hear crack tumble smack?

Does the last straw hijack,
cover your eyes and say
guess who?
Or maybe you glance behind
see it approaching like an avalanche
toward you.

How long until benevolence
becomes recklessness?
‘Til over-extending leads to
To muscles shredded,
hearts limp with fatigue?

We are meant to feel the wind
when it blows,
to assess our capacity and find it
sometimes full,
to gently say no.
We are not meant to be
not yet.