Don’t worry, be happy
or, to put it another way –
climb down from the crow’s nest,
its queasy, exaggerated susceptibility
to every roll and sway.
Secure yourself below
the water line, go for broke,
all or nothing, ready to drown.
The head is a precarious perch,
a tiny bucket of fear
with a false perspective.
into the heart, fearless heart;
rest in the ship’s deep, hollow, oak-ribbed hold.
O child of God, worry is a lack –
of heart-sense and faith in God.