don’t wander down the dim halls of memory
lost in a musty maze of dead
ends
don’t launch out into the future
on the treacherous sea of pulp
fiction
trust this pulsing moment
tawdry, tattered, or bright
let things come to you
in the marriage
of your yes
and the outstretched hand of now
sit down at the feast
of what is so
savor swallow
eat it all
it is in the being of the days a thing makes sense
the clear, confusing, giddy, dull, and tearful passing of the time
The Praying Life 
I love this, Loretta. Keeping it and reading it again and again. Katherine
Sent from my iPhone
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Thank you, Katherine.
Thank you, this is so beautiful. I would like to share it with friends on WhatsApp. Whom should I credit it to?
You may credit the poem to me, Loretta F Ross. Thank you!