Sometimes...

Sometimes living is like walking through
a mind field of emotions and choices
on days where thick, soupy clouds
cover the potholes and crevasses.

Sometimes writing is like strolling
through a bowl of spaghetti
looking for a particular strand to chew,
swallowing it and waiting
as it gets transformed into a part of you.

Sometimes it is like walking through a desert
with little obvious but more than enough
to consume a whole day.

Sometimes I edit way too much
and loose the spontaneity of my thoughts
and end up with my words slipping
from my knife and sticking to the sand.

Sometimes I trip over and bloody my nose.
Other times I stand up and walk
toward the sunrise not knowing what the day will bring.
But the walk is worthwhile,
for the new day is not made by me,
yet I am invited to participate.

There is always a choice to be content no matter what,
but the strength for that comes from without,
from he who made the Son rise.

Sometimes I forget the most basic things.
Sometimes I choose what is best.
I should do that all the time,
and not just sometimes.