As I hastily wipe peanut butter off my breakfast fingers,
as I gaze around my desk at the
stack of books I haven't read, the
unopened envelopes of bills and deadlines,
as I glance at the clock and realize
I forgot to take out the trash:
Let me rest in your peace.
As I think of the day ahead hour by hour and
can already count things I haven't done,
as the shadowed leaves outside my window
urge me gustily toward lateness,
as my unstoppable mind races to the even farther future,
money and decisions and unknown change:
Take my hand and guide me through the present moment.
As I swig the last remnants of my tea,
as I check my watch every thirty seconds and
tell myself to hurry, hurry, hurry,
as I check my phone clock to make sure it's the same,
and race to finish even these words that I cannot
linger over, because it's time to grab keys, purse, lunch, go:
Grant me your wild, rushing calm.