Think Much?

Sometimes I think I'm not productive enough. 

Not artistic enough. 

Not interesting enough. 

Sometimes I think I don't get out enough.

I don't have enough friends.

The phone doesn't ring enough.

Have I become out of sight, 

out of mind?

Sometimes I think life is passing me by.

Sometimes I think I can't even try.

Sometimes, I think no one really gives a shit.

Sometimes, I think I think  too much.

That's it.

I stop.

I become a giant me and put on my construction boots.

I stomp on all these self-defeating thoughts

that scuttle around the floor of my life.

I step over them.

And out the door.

I accept my life as it is,

and revel in the morning air.

Join a gym.

The sofa has become too sore.

Dismantle my garden.

No one else will do it.

Take a photograph.

How does life look

through it?

Go have a coffee. Talk to a stranger.

Bring along my sketch book.

Smile.

At the danger

of putting myself 

out there.

As

I tower over the ant hills 

of my problems

and enjoy the vista.

I'm in sight

and out of my

mind.