To be a saint, vaguely

Warring with my better self:
things I ought to feel
against this cranky habit
of being me, usually
(almost always) right, for decades
queen of my own castle
thinking now, how to make room
for another. Bend, will! Open, soul!
Find that mustard seed of generosity
and let it bloom, suddenly
easy as stilling the storm
with a word

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21 thoughts on “To be a saint, vaguely

  1. I LOVE the last 4 lines, and particularly the last two – just lovely word crafting! And how creative the image of a mustard seed of generosity. I immediately see it, but also sense the tang that comes along with that yellow grain. Perhaps there is an edge at the start of what becomes your bloom.

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  2. Love the title. Just perfect. The poem gets to such truth about how hard it is to make room for others’ needs. Especially at home. Am I reading that right? The honest struggle of good people.

    I want to throw a couple people out of my home right now … πŸ™‚

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      1. Ohhhhhh. That will be a transition. We have had one of our son’s friends staying with us for the last 18 mos. It is both no work at all and still somehow a lot of work. I feel guilty admitting that. Really guilty. It is a big loss of control in a way I would never had expected. I imagine an adult would be even more of that. Wait! I need to be cheering you up. Sorry. It will all be great, rainbows everyday. πŸ·πŸ€“

        Liked by 1 person

        1. Wow! And now I’m thinking of how my daughter has been living with her friend’s family in Germany for the past 9 months. They are saints, as clearly, so are you. πŸ™‚ As for things here at home…I’m sure it will be both better and harder than I can imagine right now.

          Liked by 1 person

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