Nettle tea
The road to hell is paved
with good intentions?
I’m hoping it’s the road
to Paradise.
Ofttimes, I miss the mark
but, more and more,
my intentions are to
serve You.
My love-arrows fall short
and stab someone in the
foot.
I spread my cape on the
ground –
an elegant lady sinks up
to her bloomers in mud.
My cup of kindness . . .
often filled with nettle tea.
I’m like a man on a
crowded bus –
reaching to help this
one, I knock that one’s hat off
and poke my umbrella into
someone’s ribs.
Turning to apologize, I
wallop the entire third row,
distract the driver and
cause a rear-end collision.
O child of God, fondly
recall your Beloved’s promise
that God hears only the
language of the heart.
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