ITS FUNNY HOW
THE BAKED APPLES I HAD YOU PREPARE ARE STILL IN MY REFRIGERATOR
BUT YOU
ARE NO WHERE TO BE FOUND.
THIS ISNT ENTIRELY TRUE…
I COULD ABSOLUTELY SEND YOU A DIGITAL MESSAGE
AND IM ALMOST CERTAIN YOU WOULD RESPOND (almost)
BUT I HAVE
OTHER MATTERS TO TEND TO.
OTHER MATTERS THAT DO NOT MAKE ME FEEL QUESTIONING AND
A BIT
LOST.
HOWEVER, FUNNILY ENOUGH,
EVEN MY SACRED
‘OTHER MATTERS’ CAN AND DO
MAKE ME FEEL QUESTIONING AND LOST.
BUT NOT IN THE SAME WAY OF YOU.
IM NOTICING HOW WHEN I POUR MYSELF A CUP OF COFFEE, I GET JITTERY BEFORE IVE EVEN TAKEN MY FIRST SIP.
ITS KIND OF LIKE YOU.
I LOVE THE TEXTURE OF STEEL CUT OATS.
I FIND IT QUITE DIFFICULT TO NOT EAT THEM, EVEN THOUGH MY STOMACH IS NOT HUNGRY ANY LONGER.
ITS SOMETHING ABOUT THE GLOOPY TEXTURE PAIRED WITH THE TRITENESS OF OAT SIZE.
I JUST HAD TO GOOGOOGOOGLE WHAT ‘TRITENESS’ MEANS
IN ORDER TO DECIPHER IF THERE WAS MERIT IN THE POETRY.
I DISCOVERED
THAT IN MY DESCRIPTIVE USE OF THE WORD ‘TRITE’ TO DESCRIBE THE TEXTURE OF THE OATS, I WAS MIS TAKEN.
SOMETIMES POETRY GIVES LEEWAYS TOWARDS MISMATCHES AND SLANTED INTERPRETATIONS,
BUT, IN DESCRIBING THE TEXTURE OF MY OATS, AS ‘an opinion or remark [which is] overused or of little import’; THIS MAKES NO SENSE.
I TAKE A FEW MORE BITES OF THE OATS.
I KNOW THAT I WILL EAT THEM UNTIL THEY ARE GONE
EVEN THOUGH THE AMOUNT OF OATS
IN THE PLASTIC TUPPERWARE
IS SLIGHTLY OVER
THE RECOMMENDED SERVING SIZE
OF 1/4 CUP OF OATS.
AS I IMBIBED THESE OATS, RUMINATING ON WHAT IT IS ABOUT THEM THAT MAKES THEM SO SPECIAL, I THOUGHT OF THEIR WHEAT TASTE. SUCH A COMFORT.
UNLIKE YOU.
YOU
WHO
IS
SLOWLY
AND
METHODICALLY
MORPHING
INTO A CLOAKED FIGURE OF MY MIND.
I MUST REMOVE THIS CLOAK
BE CAUSE
IN FACT
WE ARE ALWAYS
WHERE
WE ARE.
AND THERE IS NO ARGUING THIS.
IT IS FACT.
AND SO
IN APPRECIATION OF IT
I REMOVE YOUR CLOAK AND THANK YOU energetically FOR OUR (YOURS AND MINE)
SHARED GRACES.
I BLESS EACH OF OUR INTERACTIONS
AND PRAY
FOR THE CULTIVATION OF THE SACRED AND CHERISHED ABILITY
TO TRULY
AND WITH ALL HEART
L E T . G O .