hapless driftwood floating in a sea of confusion and frustration
soft blue eyes look deep inside
and ask what is wrong…
the world is ending and my mother is dying
I struggle with patients and patience
as I wait for the perfect job
knowing everything is in perfect and divine order
tears well and cheeks flush
as inner torment takes the wheel
careening into embankments
or metaphorical walls
….if you will –
apathy reigns
as I struggle with “give a ****”
knowing my attitude is the creator of my experience
she holds me close and kisses my jaw line
her understanding and acceptance both infuriate and placate me
as she helps me to find and remain in balance
especially when I am far from kilter –
deep breath and positivity fills me
I remember something
far off in the recesses a light glimmers
and hope springs into the forefront
faith becomes the norm
…..again –
why is it that I am unable to maintain
peace and order within myself
when I know the road
and could write the book
the dichotomy of man
irks me –
her face, lips, freckles, slight wave to her hair
am I a slave to love
I wouldn’t have it any other way --