Pondering the economy of the soul…

Ever feel exhausted? I am…
All the time… some days more than others.
And when the sun shines, I feel wild with unrest.
Looking out at the blue through my glass cage,
Longing to be out and smelling the musty ocean
And tasting the green of late spring.
So I muse while I multi-task,
Reverie my companion while I put my nose to the grindstone…
My bare feet digging into wet sand, skipping rocks…
Pretending that I have a lover who
Is not so economical with his soul,
Whose sultry stare burns through all of my extra pounds
And sees the glorious being buried beneath the layers…
A soul that is wanting, waiting, wondering.
Has age made us unwilling to share
The bits of ourselves that have no meaning
If kept to ourselves? Bah humbug…
I am not embittered, just hopeful…
Perhaps a light will flicker on within us all.
How lucky we are… we have so much,
Yet so little… but such great possibilities.

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