I'm mature ? (maybe that's really only one word)
I see it clearly once again, tonight,
my angst is often from the fact that I
should be quite understood, and heard so right
that all wrong emphases are minimized;
and right output, or even a fluke word
that's from my mouth is truly magnified;
in short that I'd be treasured, really heard,
and loved by all (till I am satisfied).
A horrible demand on other life,
especially those enabled, well, to choose.
My GOD, when your responses, which are rife,
are right along these lines, I'd not abuse
you and your love, by taking it for grant-
ed then not see the work you do for me,
or thank you who has rarely had a rant
(though quickly I respond that way, I see);
for all your patient, careful listening,
and questions asked to help me to feel heard,
and also actions that are glistening
with rainbow drops of water, heaven's bird.
My GOD, unless my Father/ Friend is you,
I will not grow at all to fill your dreams
and hopes that I would show in small ways to
each other creature here the good that seems
to have its source in you, the source of love,
and creativity, whom we are here
to mirror - well your ruling from above.
I won't divorce, but call you "Father dear..!"
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