Destination: Nothing is Wrong

Sleeping badly again,
Moods lurching and agitation driving,
Stirring up the dirt road along which I travel,
Sending the gravel flying,

The snow is pelting down,
The thermometer is dropping
Into the danger zone
And I’m working again tonight,

But nothing is wrong,
Everything feels just right,
Is it just because
Everything is really going my way?

Have I finally hit
A paved highway?
Or could I just be
In the wrong lane?

Either way, all day today
The feeling that all is well
Regardless of what’s happening, recurred,
Even though the usual troubles continued

And although it doesn’t feel like it,
Maybe it’s merely conditions
That I cannot yet see
Or do not fathom,

But whatever I think is going on,
There is a background here
That accepts the foreground
No matter what’s in it,

It’s like my whatever’s-on-sale stew,
Which always seems to suit me fine,
Although it isn’t mine
But like everything else,
Only reality expressing itself.