Today’s prompt: “write a poem of gifts and joy.” (http://www.napowrimo.net/one-week-down/)
My Gift
All I’ve ever wanted is to know I did good.
To know I helped make someone’s world better.
All the worry about how, about selfishness
and greed and anger and resentment
How can I do good when all these roil
Like a wadded up, wedged in, blocked pipe?
All the worry – all the parts of myself
I don’t deserve, that no one deserves,
The roiling, wadded up, wedged in, choked on
Psychological blockage,
Maybe it’s all just because I can’t tell
Whether I did good.
Maybe I don’t need to know.
I just want to do good.
It’s the little things:
The difference between “knowing” and “doing.”
I have a gift for semantics and sometimes
It’s all good.
John the Librarian 