Balance,
not always as peaceful
and serene as predicted,
sometimes barks “Buy me! Buy me!”
from a store shelf, the cries
of a gadget or doo-dad
that you know will fill a hole
and now and then it does
for a bit or even longer.
Sometimes it works forever.
Why not? Even a shaman
has fetishes for the focusing
of power, an altar holds
fragments of spirit made solid,
and when smothered in
the clutter of living,
you can hardly be blamed
for reaching toward
what calls to you,
can you?
February 10, 2012

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