It's Still Life

The Old Woman’s Wisdom Delivery Service

The old woman stirs her morning tea,
and tucks a bit of this too shall pass
into her apron pocket,
next to a stray raisin
that might be hope
or might be breakfast.

Her entire philosophy
could fit on the head of a pin,
(if the pin was slightly bent)
and smelled faintly of orange marmalade
and mothballs.

Rule 1.
Dig where you’re planted,
and sing above the noise,
even if it’s off-key,
even if that cat howls.

Rule 2.
The best sweetness is often stolen,
like jam from someone else’s toast,
or the quiet moment
when you pause to lick your wounds
and realise
they taste like honey.

Heart held.
Day softened.

Rule 3.
You’re cherished by the universe,
and the kettle,
and the cat who watches
but does not judge
(unless you’re late with dinner).