What, the wise woman asks, is our task as humans
For no discernable reason
My still immature mind immediately starts
Singing the king’s song from Camelot
     “I wonder what the king is doing tonight
     What merriment is the king pursuing tonight”
Often I wonder what my mind is doing
What chimera is it pursuing
Especially
When I awaken
From an all too frequent daydream
In which I eloquently defend
Myself, my actions, my choices, my beliefs
From my adversaries
Who all too often are
My mother, sister, daughter
Curiously never my father or sons
Never my best friend
Although often another woman friend

If I am not careful
My untrustworthy still immature mind
Wanders me deep into a dense jungle
Of self-righteousness
With no guide or destination
Called there by the venomous snake
Of not-good-enough
Tempted by the poisonous apple
Of regrets