Life has a way of over baking.
Without warning the timer has gone off
and you still putz along not knowing that
everything is crisping at the edges.
Good thing your soul is full of
pink sunrises, bird song, and meaningful prayers
filling in small increments a life lived so
when the tears rim your sad eyes
you realize your disaster isn’t the end
and your strength has come in small doses
urging you to try again.
Ah, Anne, the title alone caught my attention and brought quiet tears.
So much is here: the quiet time when we “putz along”
but recall the beauty we’ve saved and cultivated within us. Simple, powerful.
Thank you, Jan. I appreciate your kind words. Happy writing today, my friend!