I was found hiding
far from my pen, far from my paintbrush.
I tried to escape,
to not do my work,
but I was found waiting.
Waiting to begin.
Yesterday the strawberries found me.
They cried, "We need space, sunshine.
Please make my bed."
They grabbed me for hours
as I listened and complied.
Today the rains came
just in time,
as I waited.
The I Ching says,
"Waiting is not mere empty hoping.
It has the inner certainty
of reaching the goal."
The goal of being found.
The peach colored rose
found me on my trail,
unfolding more each day.
The chalk message
on the sidewalk says,
"smile." I do.
Distant cousins call.
Conditions are simple.
There is slowing down.
It is not all a bad thing.
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