Keeping Score

You may be an
addict.
I know I am.

Addicted to
keeping score,
even when
I don’t want to.

I’m not just
talking about
counting
chocolate chip
cookies.

Everything.

Have I been
sitting here
too many
minutes?

Is an hour
to wait for
an image
to appear
too long?

I wonder if
a real poet
could get there
in thirty-seven
minutes,

so as not to
steal minutes
a productive
person
could count on
for vacuuming.

Could I up
the output to
three poems
a week?

You may have been
sentenced to
life imprisonment
for your addiction,
by the scorekeeping
judges.

But what if
I told you
I believe
I found
a doorway to
freedom?

It opens
for you
right there
where you sit
on the couch.

Follow the sound
of souls laughing

when they
follow the Light
at the end of
a dark tunnel,

to a place
where
Awareness
stretches forever,
in all directions –
you can’t
count it –

and is handing out
love potions,
custom made
to suit what
you fancy,

and no one
is keeping score.

(Photo by Nathan Shively; UnSplash)