Sleeping Through the Storm

I guess I’ll have to learn to foresee
(God knows, I don’t wield the shield of Achilles)
when things will be too complicated for me.

I wish there were several more of me
on this Jesus-boat on Galilee,
each gazing deep to suss and see

some boulder ‘neath the placid sea.
I’d hoped it all would be a breeze,
but things got too complicated for me.

AND I’m always in too much of a hurry
to read maps and directions carefully.
I dread more than foresee

problems, so the problems happen to me—
my self-respect the main casualty—
because things got too complicated for me.

It seems both sad and funny really:
I’m standing with my bag of faeces,
having failed, as often, to foresee
that things would get too complicated for me.