It’s life that gathers moss and “stuff”
and packs it all in plastic bags
not sure if now’s the time or not
to throw it all away.
They sit in cupboards, nooks, crannies,
and cause the overflow of past
to crowd and suffocate the new
like demons that askew the mind.
And it takes a mind of extra strength
to lift and hold aloft intent
to clear by any manner, means,
all that went before.
It’s a fearful thing to hold clean slates
but I hold the slate; I am the slate,
I hold the chalk; I am the chalk,
and while I think what thoughts to write
years pass with old creations.
Now is the time to write new thoughts
on slates wiped clean and sanitized
then just to settle in and wait
because creation’s not a speedy thing
to suddenly jump out complete
from all the moss and other “stuff”
that litters paths and bars advance.
I write of love and fortitude,
of patience, wisdom, peace,
and above all things my happiness
while I sit and wait!