Walking Catalyst

The swing of things seem to be unbalanced once again. It teeters and veers in all directions, and the thread keeps slipping through my fingers. What joy it was to have the balance. I should have known it was only momentary. I've grown used to this, like the ocean in my ears. I know I will find the sweet balance again, I always seem to stumble upon it. But as always in a perpetual cycle, I will lose it once more. I'm beginning to realize that this is just the way it works, something definite; hardware: each corresponding piece has a specific function. But I feel that all this can be repaired with a more trying heart, a patient one too. I'm the catalyst in this.