Sitting.

Dear Good Lords’ Table
Its a new day and i want to
tell you, humbly, how i am sitting
with my neck straight - almost - and back
straight, my butt out a bit from the back of the chair
both feet flat on the floor;
this is how You mean my body to be,
as time wears on my body slouches away
from this exalted positioning
and weary thoughts of terror enter
Oh please, Dear Good Lords, won’t you keep my body straight and
prevent those sick thoughts from waning
the tree use of my mind away from the virtuous thing and
unto the nasty useless things
keep me as fresh until bedtimes as i am now;
Thank You, Dear Good Lords’ Table

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Dear good Lords’ Table,
Thank You for yet another day
You have planted me again in not so fertile soil
as a tree grows up to the sun
i take my position in my chair
straight not slouched and smooth not wrinkled
i feel fine wondering
how the day will pull me up how my branches will
spawn off treating the day like a river
with more and more of them
growing to the sky based upon this trunk that now is solid and firm;
and I try to keep my body straight so my thoughts will be
beautiful like branches ending in blossoms
but not ending the tree for the trunk goes up and more branches
spew to the side only to end in blooded
until night when the
sun hides until the next morning when another set of trees begins
and grows up to You; we would make it
to the Table if we weren’t tied to the soil.
The redundancy of it all makes me warm.
Thank You, Dear Good Lords’ Table

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Dear Good Lords’ Table,
Its so simple
we’re just like trees
we wake and stand tall setting our roots
that will hold us firm as we straighten
with our brain exuding branches ending in
thoughts which blossom to
cluster and tickle Your Table;
Our thoughts are branches that grow meaningfully
though meandering away from the trunk
all day, spending the energy from
last night to grow forth again.
Thank You for this, Good Lords’ Table

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DearGood Lords’ Table,
You often tell me
Don’t be banal
But how can I be great
and keep the seconds passing
if I have nothing
to pass the time with
imagine staying in stillness
forever;
then what am i but
a tree engendering
ideas asked before
but never answered
to Your pleasure
You keep us growing
without saying ‘why’
How can i say “i’ll just be!”
with all the goofy questions
You sent flying around?
Thank You, Good Lords’ Table