Being Tidy

Of questioning 
is my day born
a living thinking thing
of twelve-hour-deeds
I try and dedicate
to you ...

but failure stings
and darkens the attempt;
knowledge makes the day
unkempt, a messy thing
to control.

The more I see
the harder is
my ministry -
the warden watches
as I fail
as my head hits the wall

with trying.
I am not good enough
at this
servant thing -
my deeds fall short
of your perfect and forgiving

but I rise and fall, rise and fall
enough to see my overall
place in the scheme of things

and life is in the trying,
in the doing, not the win.

And so each day
I begin again and learn
by my mistakes.
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