It can be a really bad habit, floccinaucinihilipilification (estimating or categorizing something as worthless.)  Light a candle and say three times in front of a mirror:  floxin-ossin-hill-a-pill-a-fication.*  Nothing is as it seems.

I tell him to grow

a pair and I am so

frosted, waltzing away

from that insignificant

worm who really just ticks

me off.  A time bomb,

I’m waiting for some spacious


thirty-seven years later

too consumed before

to digest this.

I’m sitting here

with the notion

that any feeling

other than neutral

is far from trivial.

The valuable gift, my soul

speaking: here is the place

to clear.

The way forward is

back, a gracious invitation

to dance with all

the missed opportunites

avoided conflicts

unshed tears, blurred boundaries.

The focused lens of love

a blast of relief

warming the coldhearted

frozen in separation.

The night crawlers offer themselves

to the food chain,

the ticking clocks


in this precious second.

Inspired by:  Pair, Frosted, Insignificant and Waltzing.

*The only thing I expect to happen is to open my eyes to see where I trivialize something that is actually very important, because I feel I can’t deal.

Published by

Victoria Stuart

I'm a poet, philosopher and inner seeker. A giver, lover and a healer who studies the heart.

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