March 25
Two X’s
I play sport at the three X folks and their still sometimes skewed thinking. Yet, I attack myself for feeling like a babe in the woods. Old and wise should be my stock and trade by now though I find vastness at my door regularly and confidence struggles to peek in the window. What in the world will I do if I can’t perfect this stuff soon? Hopefully nothing as foolish as fretting or anything as mean spirited as accusation, possibly I could try reception. Truly this only comes in gift wrap and after twenty years I would hope I had learned to live in the present.
Think kindly of chickens if not of cowards
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THE ORPHANAGE OF MY HEART
The orphanage of my heart hold many children of the past
They gaze at me
Fixed in an attempt to draw me near their needs
I scurry, often my head down, eyes averted
Not knowing how to offer comfort or consideration
To these hapless souls.
Fearing the largess of poverty
I decline to open my small purse
What could I tender
Other than a tease?
Nearly barren, in my heartbroken, disconsolate, inconsolable state,
I rarely even obligate myself to extending my hand
This is the pit of my idiocy
These wee ones have the world of hope and strength to give
I am their offertory
I am the place where their gold resides
They live inside me to fill me and bind me to life and light
I flee them in the height of misunderstanding
Disconnected from these inner spirits I am impoverished
And far too weak to grasp their help
I too fogged to see the world within
Starve in the world without
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