I just returned from a trip with B and his friend Sparky. It was mostly good; though, as seems normal, our plans fell through in many ways. Our good intentions about how things would work, fell apart. The following just sprung up from thinking about that and the abrupt change in my summer schedule. I guess this is my disclaimer to say, all is well, I’m not lost or down, just contemplative and writing it out.
Trying, striving to set things the way we want them.
Cursing, crying as they veer off course.
Twisting, pulling to get back on track.
Straining, wrecking things even further.
Why can’t simple plans stay simple?
Why can’t it go as planned?
Why do best expectations get disappointed and worst fears get realized?
Why don’t good intentions follow through?
Heaving, breathing to find the calm center.
Panting, gasping in search of peace.
Writhing, seeking the light in darkness.
Groping, dropping the shards of hope.
What can be done about waylaid plans?
What can be redeemed about disappointed hopes?
What can be repaired in broken dreams?
What can be found in the wreckage of life?
Sitting, waiting for the better day.
Hoping, feeling that it must get better.
Smiling, laughing at all the small things.
Hugging, loving those that matter most.