Some times my toolbox gets a little messy
and I have to stop and clean it out…
separate the grit from the grits…
the screws from the drivers,
the pliers from the plumb tuckered outs,
the been there done thats’
from the someday gonnas’.
I knew it was time to clean it out when yesterday
I reached into the forgiveness drawer, and
pulled out a righteous indignation instead;
kinda smarted when it hit my funny bone,
because there weren’t nothin’ fun about it;
even Love dog kinda scowled.
Then, this morning, I couldn’t find kindness;
I was getting desperate, looked everywhere, and finally found it
rolled up underneath the Love box,
all tangled up with a bunch of pissed-off.
And to make matters worse,
as I was comin’ out from down under,
Love Dog turned on the compressor
and blew hot n’ cold all over the intention jug,
it scared me so bad
I banged my head
on the mindfulness tray;
kinda knocked some sense into me, though,
enough to want to straighten things out around here.
I went and stared at the grease rack until by the time
Love Dog woke me up with his scratchin’,
Everything was back in the right order.
We’ll see how long it lasts.
ha! love this