4-19-12 12:42am

Worry is a weight
An anchor, when
you need an oar.
Worry is a habit
A ritual, to
make you secure.
My weight is I won't know you
Amongst the blooming trees
And when all the scent
Is withering, I'll roam lonely
My habit is to pace
When I really want to run
And halt in my tracks
When the favor has come

But I began new rituals
Upon meeting you, & when
I lost you from my sight,
Forgot what I was to do.
Ignored the 1st fact, 'knowing'
That everything was right,
I kept you for a while,
Invested poetry and time.
Prayed that your weighty
Words would promise honesty;
Found more than love in you,
Realized depth & constancy.