.
.
.
TRASH DAY
.
.
When the Abyss opens up in front of me
I used to panic, filled with dread
But no more!
Now I jump in my spiritual bulldozer
And shove that steaming pile of grievances and regrets
Right over the edge
Down down down they go
To Who-Knows-Where
Until my inner landscape is no longer littered
With emotional rubble and the ground is cleared
For my next garden of dreams
.
.
.
.
.
.
No comments:
Post a Comment