Circles

It’s been a day of loops. Like a song, stuck.

Got in the shower.  Shampooed twice but forgot to rinse.

Spooned down muesli.  Thirsty. Boiled the kettle. Tea – or coffee? Too much.

Opened the cupboard. Closed the cupboard.  Boiled the kettle again. Made both.  Left both.

Opened the computer. Tried to focus. Watched as words trickled down the screen.

Went for a walk. Circled the block. Saw people I knew.  Realised I should say something. Searched and gave up.

Back home. Stretched my face. Looked at the garden.

Straightened the grass. Brushed away the leaves.  Circles of dust, rising and settling.

And my brain, looping, circling  like the seagulls above.

Shut my eyes.  Lift off my head. Tip it. All. Out.

Life.  Or not life.

A miracle.  A tragedy.

A couple of cells. A child.

Everything different; but same as before.

And too much to carry. So give it away.

O Lord, my heart is not lifted up;
my eyes are not raised too high;
I do not occupy myself with things
too great and too marvelous for me.
But I have calmed and quieted my soul,
like a weaned child with its mother;
like a weaned child is my soul within me.

O Israel, hope in the Lord
from this time forth and forevermore.

Psalm 131.