The Couch We Can’t Get Rid Of
My parents bought it in the 80s. It was our first and last foray into the world of sectionals. It had two sections! One was a three-seater, with respectable arm…
I wake
A little off center
As if I am only able to inhabit
The left side of my body.
My skin itches
I am afflicted like Job
And sleepy like a bear
In late November.
Craving a cave instead of the sunlight.
The winds rise up as I set forth
Blowing debris out of their carefully raked piles
Into my face.
I raked those piles.
Is it my fault because I left them,
Foolishly thinking they would stay the night?
My only job to rake these leaves.
Give me a different job.
My heart is heavy these days
Too much death,
Too many fallen leaves.
And remains so
Until a friend calls,
Laughing
To say,
What I wouldn’t give for a rake
What I wouldn’t give for a tree.
You are so lucky.
“It is better to do your own duty
Badly than to perfectly do
Another’s”
And so I pick up the rake
Tidy the piles
Toss the fragments of leaf
Into the compost pile.
Perfectly at peace,
Even as I know
The winds could still come up again
And this time the fragments will be even smaller,
Mere dust
More painful to the eye.
Even so, Oh Lord,
I rake them again
For the love of you.
A Zen lesson!
“What I wouldn’t give for a rake
What I wouldn’t give for a tree.”
So lovely, this and the rest of it. Keep on.
xo
“What I wouldn’t give for a rake
What I wouldn’t give for a tree.”
So lovely, this and the rest of it. Keep on.
xo