It's not that I'm skittish;
or even wary.
Open and inviting, hopeful is more my
I'm only skeptical because of the way I'm regarded,
how my things are used,
or what the heck the impression of me must carry.

If you've know me for years,
and have come here,
surely you've noticed that I have all the same things.
Yes, they are old, and they're goofy,
but it's only because I cherish them is what I'd assume you'd think.

I know what each does, and what I use it for.
I know how to clean it, care for it,
and put it away.
So that it'll be exactly in the same place
where I'll expect to find it,
when it's use, again, comes into play.

Yes, I also have a lot of things.
But that's only because there's a lot of things I do.
And when I imagine something, and want to fabricate it,
I tie into it, because I know I have the right tools.

If not, I'll find a way to make it function,
how to make a pinion for a swivel,
or a hinge.  
A couple of screws for an anchor, of a certain length and gauge,
is just the way it always begins.

But only on account of all the thing I keep;
I never throw much of anything out.
Tiny things give me ideas,
you wouldn't believe my collection of washers,
found just by walking or biking about.

So if another comes around that uses them,
opens cupboards, drawers, uses silverware
or tools,
I've learned to teach, to please be mindful that they're mine;
just because they're here does not mean they're communal.

The gratefulness of sharing is in being given reins,
in trust, for a job to well-do.
After all, likewise,
when you work for another,
it's their reflection that's created in what you do.

Insight can not be given;
only by interplay do we learn to fumble
or engage.
It can only be found from the Inner-
to then project, not cut off one's nose to spite
their fate.

If regard and respect become matters of request,
you learn to see the casualty of how you're perceived.
To foresee is to forestall, to direct, but accept the call
of assuming all the attributes by which
you're believed.

To be flattered by making life appear so easy;
to be assumed to manage seven things at once,
or perhaps even eight.
But in truth,
my limit is actually about five;
but it's a pleasure to receive this acquired trait!

No, I don't use all my things simultaneously;
of course not;
they all have a specific purpose.
And they've been here all this time because that's how I build my life,
and if they're manhandled, tangled, or dulled, they become worthless.

And therein the outward perception of Me changes.
Entitlement and assumption seems to be what is felt.
And I can only hope that it's by gracefulness and efficiency
that allows others to reach for what they'd like in themselves.


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