I’m looking for my glasses.
Oh. My mind.
They are lost.
And in every old purse, basket, stolen moment, dusty corner,
They are not.
Time is lost while looking,
Time is lost while trying
to find my life amidst
tangled ribbons, bits of paper, dusty corners
And in a moment I breathe,
look out a window. Stop dusting
stop trying, stop looking, looking, pleading
with all the lost ribbons, tears, and dreams
of this leaning house.
Now listen and sing sweetly:
I was lost,
and now I’m found.
Sing the Promise that is also true.
Sing the hymn that ignores time
and dusty corners and
is a glorious ache that is filled for my future
Lost keys, glasses, tempers.
Cash, daylight, youth.
This is a promise that is always
and also true.
You cannot take anything from me that I care less about, except my life. Except my life.
Writing over with Lisa-Jo Baker at Five Minute Friday today:
*Incidentally, I was looking through my glasses whilst I was looking for them.
I have lost my marbles too, it seems.