Tasting Menu

I chase away the silence with my words.

I pretend that I want peace of mind,

the great stillness of cosmic consciousness,

but only after I attain my selfish pursuits.

I dare to claim that these desires are the

true intention of myself,

that I am doing my purpose

when I adhere to these impulses.

The crazy thing is I might be right

but for the wrong reason.

When does a person not know

he or she is doing right?

When something is funny,

we laugh.

No explanations are needed–

such statements cheapen the truth,

insult the act.

I do not feel good when I am critical.

I do not like redressing others.

I get no joy from finding fault

or coercing others to behave

according to my will —

which very often means

getting them out of my way

so I can continue my efforts undisturbed.

Where is the charity in my heart?

Where the kindness in my words?

I crave

connection

validation

a manageable clamor for my work.

I know my hunger,

I see the meal…

and yet I daily turn from the table

and gaze at the menu.