April 16
NAPPING
Too often, I have lifted the edge of the lawn in an attempt
to join the worms for a bit of a dirt nap.
Or I crawled into a self-constructed cave to bear my feelings and
hibernate from life. The times I sprint
with the deer, jumping the fences in hopes of escaping the wolves, these are
all the times when I forget who I am. I
forget to ask direction, fail to make a meeting. Seeing those of my ilk puts my feet on the
ground, focuses my perspective on just what sort of creature I am. I can’t always follow my instincts when I
don’t know who I am. I can’t see myself
until I stand next to you.
Relax one toe at a
time.
*
In Training
Like a faithful dog that was hard to train,
patience is a thing hoped for
yet peevish during the breaking in.
Stanch companionability is hard won,
but worth the cost of acquisition.
And what is the price I truly paid in the end;
whatever I gave in the pursuit of patience
was a cheap babysitter
and kept me from far worse reformation.
For what would I do in this late day and age
as a tempest torn toddler,
no bottle to sooth my woes and bothers.
Strictly speaking this is a world ill suited
to the edgy intolerant masses
and only seems to fit those who can mark time and bend.
You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane
and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault
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