if i had the faith to move mountains
of laundry, i'd get more done in one solar spin cycle
than any Sun Tzu planning epic conquests
of housework. but some days i feel like
the Art of Warm food requires too much effort.
i'd rather skip the stovework and step right to the
piping hot plate. like most things in life,
i'd prefer product to process.
i want dinner without cooking, clean clothes without laundry,
promotions without long hours, pay checks without
two weeks' work, thinness without gyms and treadmills
and calorie carb counts.
relationship without singleness first.
love without sacrifice.
i want to be perfect, but i don't want to be perfected.
i want to be holy, but Lord knows I don't want to have to be
some days, i'd rather fast forward to the golden time to come,
i'd rather skip over what seem to be the dark ages
so i can get on with the renaissance of my life.
i keep forgetting that every day is rebirth,
that every moment is perched on the brink of
[hey sunshine--welcome to the good part.]