When the tide of blessings recedes

Like the tides,
that slide in and out day by day,
your blessings roll in,
or recede and then expose what lies beneath,
that structure you built in me.
Have I been tending it,
growing and feeding
what needs to be grown and fed;
harvesting what needs to be harvested;
loving what needs to be loved?

Or have I allowed it to become
neglected, even crushed, or overgrown
with weeds; with slimy thoughts
and self-concerns?


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