a poem in my pocket

stressed out

pressed out

spread thin as

melted butter

dries into hard

charred toast

(cheap toaster,

get what you

pay for, huh?)

calendar days

overlap, overfill

with uneventful

events (or ever

errant errands);

can’t clear any

cluttered squares

for open spaces

just to breathe.

responsibilities

worry like dog

that won’t let go

of old stale bone;

just bury them

(in moist garden

with earthworms

in dirt) dig ’em up

later, composted.

body is inflamed

system attacks own

internal flora/fauna

(acidic thoughts

exacerbate cycle:

over-react  or

stuff fears deep?)

irritated colon tries

to digest itself.

is it possible

to self-correct

immuno-hyper-vigilantis?

“Therefore we do not lose heart.  though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.  For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.  So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen.  For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”

2 Corinthians 4:16-18