My head is pushing in on all sides.
Why did I say that to her, when I meant to say this?
How many times will I mess up and destroy marital bliss?
Six nights I’ve missed the rest that sleep provides.
“Do not worry,” the voice whispers.
“My warmth is on your face and my peace passes all understanding.
Please listen to my promise and your joy will keep expanding.
Love mends internal winters.”
If I give to the homeless,
I will never save up for a house. I don’t have extra money.
The cost of groceries keeps rising; I can’t even afford honey.
I keep praying for a bonus.
“Do not forget,” the voice whispers,
“How precious you are to me. You are more dear than
The lavish flora and the well-provided fauna. Man
And woman will have their needs, not slivers.”
Do not worry about tomorrow
Is a hard task to manage. Will I ever
Have a job I like? Will my future children be clever?
I even fret over the snow.
“Do not fear,” the voice whispers.
“Tomorrow worries about itself. Your best
Is more than enough when you let me handle the rest.
Can you imagine how bright your future shimmers?”
If anyone is curious about this poem’s meaning, my inspiration came from Matthew 6:25-34.
Good Fruit 