Imbroglio and the Grandchild

Embroiled am I this day
Mind boiling, toiling
Caught in circular confusions
A cacophany of inner voices
Each seeking,
Yea pleading their case
For a simple single conversation
Rational, not desperate
Not filled with stereotype labels
Lept to mind, libelous
Filled with unreasonable demands--

--Sweet Jesus, Help Me!

What’s this!
A grandchild, 3 years old
Come running full tilt
With an embrace
Accidentally striking me
In the solar plexus
Knocking me to my senses
With the innocence of
Unconditional love.

What’s this!
Climbing silently upon my knee
Another embrace, a kiss
All of this, wordless
Yet full of meaning

And now I kiss
The head of wisdom
And cleanse myself
In the sweet-smelling warmth
Of a child’s flaxen hair

Be thou as a child

Amen!