It’s like a zen garden:

Shake and shift, remake the patterns.

Put down stones.

Nothing is permanent, even stones.

They move. They split into pieces, roll away.

The gardener shakes and shifts

and starts again.

Each morning is the same:

Look at the day, choose this and not that.

Shake and shift.

Remake the patterns. Set the stones.

The day breaks, moves out of my grasp.

The garden disappears in confusion;

I trace new patterns

and start again.

Each day, start again.

Each day, try again.

Each day, believe again.

One foot in front of the other.

One day at a time.


About grannysu

storyteller, writer, poet, gardener, countrywoman
This entry was posted in A River of Stones, aros, NaPoWriMo. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Mantra

  1. Julie Estes says:

    YES!!! Perfect!

  2. sharp, you are right about this.
    Enjoyed this, awesome talent.

    Invite you to join poets rally week 42 by sharing a free verse today.

    You will love the encouragements you get once you are in and make commitment.

    Your poetry rocks!

    Hope to see you in!
    Have A Blessed Easter!

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