In Fact I Wish I Would

With hope



I wish that I could ever be

less rattled by the world in me


Mistakes I make

Upsetting things

Are mostly over done


So fleeting, fixable, fly-by-night

Soon to become out of sight

Leaving me grateful for ephemeral good

In time, I really think I could


Am I required to be upset

as upsetting things occur?

Or believe in every thought

that filters through my brain

agitating as I ache and fret?


I mostly get there anyway

A place of perspective

A trace of acceptance

Why not get there sooner?


May I react in softer ways

To troubles that anoint my days

And see them for the stuff they are


In fact I wish I would.

I’m pretty sure I could


Starting now.


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