Like You Really Mean It

I am happy I am told,
I am at peace with the World,
my analyst is at peace with me.

My anxiety, she says, is frustration
with the pace of change – not
it’s inexorability. Slow down a bit,

match the rhythms, see the air
shimmer with mid-afternoon pleasure,
tap into that reservoir of ambient

sound, groove to it. Be one with
the whole she says. Sounds like
good advice to me.

And write a happy poem
for once, she says,
like you really mean it!
© 3 May 2007, I.D. Carswell