I am pushing that heavy cart of myself forward.
It is hard work.
The strive for meaning.
Hoping for change.
I finish, for today.
Inside I sit and wait.
Insecurity, doubt, pessimism, fear are all voices
that come knocking on my cool blue door.
I am not interested in such visitors.
I quiet myself.
Watching with closed eyes
the last falling feather of my day
And then stillness
Where the golden strands of
peace and understanding
begin the whispers of their weaving.