
First days of annual leave
The struggle is real
Winding down impossible
Too many loose ends to tie up
Communications to finish
Plans to make
Creating order as strategy
Wardrobe, drawers, papers
While the mind meanders
The hands make space
And somehow
Creating outer space
Creates inner space
The white noise is calming down
And thoughts emerge
Like bright lotus blossoms from mud
They were hovering
Just below the surface
But now the pedals broke through
Blossoms open
And bring more calm
So maybe
Just maybe
Tomorrow will be a better day