Again

A

Even against prevailing winds,

the pattern persists—Happiness

is a myth. Too troubled to

untangle this moment from

the last, I am trapped in

a quandary of happenstance,

an Irish know woven from briar.

Unlike Lao Tzu by a pond, I hesitate

allowing decisions to pass undecided.

I don’t wait for the wind to fall,

or the murk to settle into clarity.

(February 8, 2019)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.