If The Issue is something ‘at hand,’ as it were,
Does it mean that it’s here now and up in my face
To reflect my untidy world? Need I escape
To my realm of illusion? I’m in better shape
Than the errant perceptions I wrongly embrace
Rather than those my spirit would clearly prefer.
I’ll admit to my vagueness of all taking place
In, under, around and over all that is here
In this state of confusion. Should I then retreat
To where no one can find me? Is that called deceit?
Knowing nothing of value emerges from fear,
I am wise to the providence of divine grace.
If I overreact to the issues at hand
There will only be outcomes that don’t reach the mark.
There’s a need for compassion that self can provide
To its thick clouded spirit too dense in its pride.
Letting go of the issue, perhaps I’ll embark
On a much kinder journey that I’ll understand.