Some days, some weeks, some times
my state of mind-buzzing just…
I fidget, fret, wallow
knowing I need to just connect,
forgetting for a moment what that means
The tender care I crave,
that only I can give
in my surrender to that which is greater than me,
is no longer logically unknown.
I know exactly where to fill my bowl.
I see it distinctly in my wisdom,
my arsenal medicine bag of pathways
to nurture-shock my heart
back into calm sublime align.
But, I resist.
Some days, some weeks, some times I resist resist resist.
Old habits die hard,
they say for good reason.
Great life-shifting lessons need detrimental emphasized reminders,
lest they be forgotten.
I *know* I need to give that worry-mind the finger,
all doors slammed,
and carry my physical self
back into my studio’s belly –
to feed the starving artist-sprite within.
She waits for me to pause between my own ego-torture tricks
and relent to my downstream life-force magnetism
where relief rests so sweet,
so easy with just a stroke, a kiss
of softly giving in.
Because that’s just how my soul rolls and follows
into the bliss where I will find the only me
I care to know and share and be.
Still, yes still,
some days, some weeks, some times,
getting started is the hardest part –
and the only thing that matters.
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