Doing, Saying It Again
Once again I find I’m saying; “Plan my day!”
A phrase almost a quasi-prayer.
(Raised up to some vague star up there somewhere.)
Though going to, into thin air,
Aware in mind of finding nothing,
There a kind of blind belief, pragmatic faith
In nothing I can feel (like lace)
Looking for traces anyway, in daily life:
I, sensible and level-headed,
Practical and logic-driven:
Balanced person grounded in
Impressions most plebeian –
(That, the person that I am)
When day’s routine gives out no voice,
No plan come down from paradise,
With no choice but to face what comes,
Create some forms, receive the day
Of ‘outer’ planning’s voice turned play,
Which is, of course the voice of possibility,
By saying to myself and It “Plan my day!”,
And take what follows,
As it comes and as it goes.
Doing,Saying It Again 5.26.2021/7.3.2021 To The Child Mystic II; The Processes; Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; Arlene Nover Corwin
Arlene Corwin Poetry 