The problem with luck is you don’t know
when you are lucky.
And Joy is a puddle after a rain,
stagnant and waiting,
to splash your calves and soak your socks.
To remind you,
laugh now and dry clothes later.
Stop avoiding small baptisms of the everyday.
Look up and dig down into the muddy old soul,
Take tiny steps, tiny breaths
on the path to your beginning.
No comments:
Post a Comment