Life is gathering dust about my ankles.
It’s cementing my feet to the ground.
I feel like a tree that’s attached to the earth.
No branches, no leaves are around.
Perhaps I should worry about something else.
Gather green grass and not the weeds,
Pick out a time and place of my choosing.
Sow only the seeds that I need.
Go out and take chances to feel as I want.
Pick out a nut and expose its fruit.
Giggle and laugh and sway without purpose.
Pray that my leaves follow suit.
One of a dozen of life’s inner struggles.
Not to be lost and not to be won.
Smile at myself and my self will smile back.
Allow and absorb all my sun.