One of Those Days

It’s one of those days​

When I’m a little shell of a thing

Not the usual small

Smaller.

When the regular, run-of-the-mill indecision

Looks like all out perplexed and

Feels like paralysis supercharged with tension and

Progress feels like a no-option thing.

Reason (and experience) would tell me this is temporary

But a moment’s still a moment

With all its time and requirement

And can’t be discounted

A moment can feel timeless

In all the worst ways.
But wait, confusion stupor,

I don’t accept your terms!

Oh, snake oiler,

You may have enticed me with such hocked wares as these before, and

I may have bought your lines and swallowed your bitter pills once upon a time, but

I’ve no expendable currency

To support such business today.

In fact, I don’t even have time for the rest of your pitch.

Roll on by

And find some other pig to inhabit

What you offer’s not the only merchandise in town.
I’ll wait and watch and listen for

A lovelier voice

A truer product

A sweeter purchase.

I can spare this moment while I wait

I’ll hold on

For One who always offers what’s good, what’s needed, what’s best

Even if I can’t hear Him right this minute

He’s coming.

Blessedly and with Him, it’s always that day.
Thank You.

New

  

 Even though I’ve not been here before

 Going through the motions

 As though I have.

 Where nary an original thought

 Feeding reaction

 S’to be found.

 Ideas

 Expectations

 Roles

 Ways of responding

 All seem irritatingly preconceived.

 Decided upon.

 Not deciding’s deciding too.

 I must decide to remind myself

 That I’ve not passed this way before.

 This is a new day

  A new thing 

 (Full of promise and opportunity)

 Why does this remembrance seem the exception, the extra?

 A pleasant surprise? A life-changing epiphany?

 Why does succumbing to lesser quality modes of responding seem to be the most common rule?

 Going through the motions will reign

 If I don’t fight for lusher, more vital grounds.

 Fight to remember this new day

 The thrill of new ways.

 Will I fight?

 Will I perceive it?

 Will I see the new thing

 And refuse to be swallowed 

 In the old?

 Be remade, live fully alive,

 In the new?