When love is rationed out in a small cup,
Contentment.
To let that cup pass other mouths,
Kindness.
And still give of oneself some more,
Generosity.
To find one’s light under a bleak sky,
Hope.
And endeavor for a beautiful morrow,
Fortitude.
Plod on through paths that aren't clear,
Endurance.
Unswayed by passing fantasies,
Temperance.
To make an offering of oneself to be chiseled,
Humility.
Into something larger,
Love.
To awaken into abundance,
Infinite grace.
Another day, another lunchtime.
On the stove, simmering
Half-hearted curry.
The one you make, when
you are too tired to make,
yet, still have to make,
Something.
Onion, tomatoes, aubergine,
dash of spices, dunked
in no particular order.
Pour some water,
bring to a gentle boil.
Ten minutes in,
Think it might be done,
Most likely palatable.
Here, taste a spoonful.
What? Very mellow curry?
Well, its just a curry
Calm the curry down!
Zesty curry another day,
Promise, I say.
Can love carry the day?
Go out for curry, you say?
First, kiss the blues away
Then to better curry,
Carry me away.
