My thoughts like autumn leaves
Fluttering from one spot to another,
Too jerky, too distractible,
Dangerous at times
To me and those I love.
My disposition’s so intractable,
What can I do to find my center,
To soothe, to calm?
Poses, prose and prayers do not work,
But when I’m channeling a poem
My mind gets in the groove.
©2003 John I. Blair