Anchored In Some Mental (Rev.) Poem by Margaret Alice

I have no anchor points for my free-falling mind,
reading Pratchett’s ‘Witches Abroad’ with Genua
in an uproar, contact lost with the here and now,
confused and threatened by secrets and witchcraft
and revelations; once I’m desensitized by reading
this tale over and over, I’ll be able to focus
on the cute bits - but this first reading takes
away all feeling for the upcoming holiday

I’m adrift in a sea of new ideas, more magic than
I can manage easily, playing with tradition and
fairytales more than I can file away, I’m confused –
though in the past I’ve coped by focusing on things
I’m not interested in, like sewing – ghastly – and
stones with dried leaves and flowers glued upon them –
tonight I’m surprised that the old habit of drifting
away from reality is still so strong

After practicing to stay marooned in present beingness –
but just to open up new vistas, unfold new landscapes
of thoughts where my spirit drifts, I’m left bereft,
alone in strange territory – should I stop reading,
never drift again? – Impossible, staying at anchor in
the bay when so many mental adventures are waiting to
be experienced – I shall have to pay with strange
stirrings and uncomfortable thoughts

For these unusual occurrences are always solved
eventually by desensitization through repetition,
eventual return to current reality – right now though,
on the eve of our holiday, I wish I were anchored
safely in some peaceful mental bay …