Delight

A poem about uncertainty and control

Photo by Rohan Makhecha on Unsplash

Day after day
Night after night
The same struggle rears its devil-grinned face at me, laughing at the seat at the dinner table I still save for it
Each dinner feels different, sometimes better, sometimes more confrontational

But I never know
I never know the future, not the next hour or the next year
I plan and plan, my future dinners designed to the nines and me dressed to the nines, but mostly

I doubt my mirage and beliefs and anxiously cope
I focus on the napkins while the stew rots
I scramble for control in the dirtiest, dustiest corners behind closed doors
And so the plans are never enough
And the coping is but a band-aid

I must know

But where is the fun in that?
Where is the delight in life?
The delight in justice, butterfly effects, tender hearts of flesh, inner peace, self-love, and future connections
The delight in plans undone

To find joy is
To have faith is
To want to delight in the unknown

The beautiful, uncontrollable unknown