Feasting, Fanfare, and a Very Determined Walk
Today is the Feast of the Ascension,
and the clock is grinning at five.
A little late for heaven’s early-bird special,
but still squarely in the rooster-approved shift
when prayer slips in like steam from a fresh cup,
bringing mental cobwebs to heel
and kicking stress out like an uninvited cousin.
I am oddly peaceful,
like a parade float before the band starts blasting.
Today’s grand quest: a lap around the lake with friends,
having already evicted a few stubborn gremlins from the attic of my mind.
I am awake,
armored in clothes,
and primed like a toaster at dawn.
The body is on board,
though the appetite has been throwing confetti for days,
so now it is time to let my Keens preach.
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