On the day the moon went
forward of the sun, she woke again,
a Monday, vowed again to
her best with what she had
~ just a little bit ~
knowing that most things
she does not know. A prayer again:
"Make me a vessel, empty
and clear. May truth flow
through and kindness too." It is
a tender thing to try not
for perfect, but for simple and soft
progress is not what it seems.