Anxiety Nocturne

I don't need much for me and never have
one best friend, a head full of dreams
a black and white cat
who understands
a window showing stars at night

I miss being the child

now I'm the root, not the bud
and I'm still not used to how 
it's not me blossoming
though he blossoms
and I see me

he hasn't learned to be resourceful

it seems I have taught him
to dream and to laugh and to sing 
not to save

god help us

Linguistically speaking

Origin

Old English lufu, of Germanic origin; from an Indo-European root shared by Sanskrit lubhyati 'desires', Latin libet 'it is pleasing', libido 'desire', also by leave² and lief.

How love began, according to the OED

Just say the word

Today

I started to write something two days ago because I hadn't written anything in so long, and I thought I might have something to reveal, but then I just sat there. 

I'll stick with stories and keep the poetry at bay where it's been for some time now. 

A week ago my ego got the better of me and I found myself releasing contempt on a stranger attempting to collect on a bill I believed was paid.  It was only for $25, but the medical billing process is a Rube Goldberg machine with only some of the intricate machinery showing on any given invoice.

I invested a lot of energy into the notion that I was being wronged, and feeling deeply the meal on the table that $25 represents.   It's so rare for me to lose my poise and grace and even rarer for me to abuse a stranger who likely makes less money than I do and who is just doing her job.  So there was remorse about that, then karmic events on the heels of that.  The next day someone tried to use my debit card number to buy $600 worth of merchandise at a Meijer in Royal Oak.  (My bank was onto them from the start, thankfully, and blocked the transactions.)

Yesterday I sent a thank you email to three employees who gave input on a document I was preparing.  The third person to give feedback gave much more valuable, substantive feedback than the other two, but I thanked them together.  An hour later the woman of the best feedback sent me email noting that I had listed her name last, and how that implied I valued her feedback the least.  I simply listed the names in the order in which they had provided the feedback.  The accusation from this woman I've known for 25 years was completely unexpected, out of the blue.  She's indulging a compulsive insecurity about her worth and imposing it onto a neutral pattern.  That felt familiar though.  I think I just did something like that.  Going down the stairs of my work building shortly thereafter, I looked upward and whispered "When are you going to deliver me from this?"  Knowing full well that "this" is life, and I don't feel all that ready for delivery/deliverance just yet.

7-Down

Ditto.

I, Too

like shiva in his ring of fire

I, too, with my four arms poised

balanced on one flat foot

closed my goddess eyes

dreamed the new world

I, too, was filled with that light

opened my human heart

danced a tabla rhythm

jingled my golden coins

walked among you smiling

but it’s dark now

and I’ve been silent

shining still, but silent

my four arms poised

Yes

Can I stay present to the ache of loss or disgrace—disappointment in all its many forms—and let it open me?  

Pema Chodron

It's my birthday

I see your colors

with my good eye

and my bad eye

sees shadows

where there are shadows

I see more than you want

and must close them

still I listen for your accent

and your silence

such music