Analysis of The Writer Writes His Own Story

As this new bud blooms,
as this new story takes up
its own pen and begins to write,
I step into unknown territory,
fearing gunfire but expecting
an embracing surprise.
You know my expectations,
you have pinned them up
on the refrigerator door,
stuck them to your inner regions,
held onto them with dear life,
and still you wait.
Across the barren strait of land,
shaded even in open view,
is the simplest of your ideals,
still shrouded in mystery
too far away for my reach,
my limited grasp.
Come nearer
and teach my mind how to love,
come closer
and beseech these hallowed walls,
come faster,
and mend each broken piece.