Day nine, somehow it sounds like a magic number.

The vibrate morning after a night that ended abruptly,

presents hopeful opportunities and eye-opening clarity.

Away with negative thoughts, I don’t want to be a grumbler.

As the day evolves, that brightness gets lost in the translation,

There’s an enigma coded language between my heart and my brain,

a part of me realizing the reflection of someone else’s pain.

I somehow know how to help, to accomplish a mindful pervasion.

Why doesn’t my conscious absorb that sparkling encounter,

why don’t I except that rewarding smile of relief.

I can’t figure out my role as an unconsciously trusted counselor.

In the end, it doesn’t matter what I sincerely believe,

It’s not my right to exhibition pride like a pouter.

I just took away some struggling insecurity and grief.

*****