I drive myself to distraction.
I am a poor guest,
an indifferent friend.
I speak my mind,
and push aside
the opinions of others.
Disingenuous,
centered in myself,
indifferent to fashion,
but, loving the openness of children.
I feel the world
welcome me to its meadow,
a road that needs wandering,
time holding still,
enough for coming in
and leaving.
Long enough,
to live,
and let the seed of love
grow up inside me.