Making the Soul's Re-acquaintance

It seems you must give up your long-term lease On being right and wronged, righteous and hurt. No doubt there's someone else who would be pleased To lord over that haughty piece of Earth.

Move to a cottage of humility, Cross-breezes, and a pantry full of jars That hold your faults, preserved for scrutiny. Live with the wretchedness of who you are.

Chop kindling from the stump of your assumptions, And ask forgiveness from each simple wall. It won't be long before you sense resumption Of basic gratitude for life, for all.

Of course you'll want to pray again, poor sod. But keep it basic: pray there is a God.