Creating more ideal circumstances is a theme.

A prophecy?


Or is it, perhaps?

Why then, am I stuck?

Don’t ask if you don’t want the answer.

It’s that prickly, painfully colorful burst.

The inner reality that you of all people don’t want to know.

You like fluidity.

He likes concrete.

You long for meditation but avoid it because if you allow yourself to know you must act.

Procrastination feels safer.

Yet not acting IS acting, damn it.

She calls to you on the riverwalk as you move your legs faster, eyes downward.

She knows.

And your awareness of this fact makes you shiver.

Another year.



Less of you.

More of him.

Listen to her.

You’re the only one who truly knows.


***This is in response to a prompt on The Daily Post.

2 thoughts on “Who’s the Prophet Here?

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