Discombobulated
Many of my thoughts go here, then there;
like the fluttering of Autumn leaves;
it makes me seem as though I don’t care;
hiding my thoughts up my sleeves.
Why can’t I think of one thing at a time;
must thoughts, fall like snow flurries?
My mind should be able to stop on a dime;
not constantly interrupted by worries.
Millions of thoughts go floating in my mind;
a virtual scrapbook of memories to share;
I don’t understand why memory was designed;
to share thoughts with those who don’t care.
I cannot imagine why it is, I’m still here;
what purpose is found in keeping busy;
we spend all our life on a spinning sphere;
is it any wonder my mind’s gotten dizzy.
I’m a solitary man, simply living alone;
what can the Master expect from me?
I’ve fallen many times; on the way home;
trying to be, what He wants me to be.
The Master has a mission for us all;
a purpose, only we can fulfill;
it may be grandiose, or very small;
but, it’s essential, to His will.
That I’m still here; means I’m meant to be;
my purpose, in life, not yet consummated;
ordained to respond to the Master’s decree;
yet, my thoughts remain discombobulated.
Monty 11/7/22. # 1,326