My job?
+++++Is it work?
+++++Is it school?

that’s what the world
or Mom
might tell,

living through
in my own terms
of sick times
and of well,

A better answer
+++++somehow managed,
+++++through the pain and fog,
+++++through restlessness and peaceful sleep,
+++++to arise–

+++++its clarity
+++++and deep sincerity
+++++to settle and to gel. . .

MY job
to feel–

From there,
it will be possible
+++++myself better to steer–
++++++++++in movement–
++++++++++and in stillness, too,

+++++to breathe. . .

+++++receive. . .

+++++release. . .

+++++and then, repeat. . .

And, in the repetition,
whole, to heal,

and shine a light
that will illuminate–
not only for my sake,
but to offer
from my path
would be to anyone
a feeling, healing guide,
that they, on their own path
might like to take.

This entry was posted in Poetic Musing (Longer Poems), Poetry, Prayer and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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