The Danforth Anchor

Stare them in the face. . .

all those little things
you find yourself
too often doing,
that don’t help get you
where you wish so bad
to be ,

but which take you
to some other,
lesser, crummy
or maybe simply mediocre
place.

Look them in their poker eyes,
and hold their hand
for with them’s twined
the little parts of you
that way back when
were somehow set askew,
in such a way
you put a value
on fear- and sad- and mad-control,

and called that “Wisdom”
once dressed in careful make-up
and bright, masterful disguise.

As you gaze,
seek deep till you
++++++++++those long-past little steps
+++++sense,
+++++almost walk–
++++++++++their prints, their warmth,
++++++++++their weight, their gait
+++++quite lovingly retrace.

Find out why those busy
not-so-constructive things
swarm in
to fill your life,
your time, your space,
your breath and heartbeat,

and next time
you’re doing something toward
the bright life dream you’ve claimed
and the phone rudely or alluring rings,
just let it ring. . .

and let your own time
be important—
start first and take
YOUR portion–
let not your life
seem over-shortened
from the disappointment
even the very best
distracting, shiny object
that pulls you, pushy, from your purpose,
and topples you right off your topic,

so that your heart beats deep
within your breast,
and its best song
unto your world
in perfect tempo brings.