Conduct took my mojo
She bore it on the rough water
Of difficult situations

Swam fish-like
Jumping over waves
Of entitlement, righteousness, aggression and impatience

And when my mojo began
its journey seaward the angels laughed,
“Let’s see what she does now.”

Yes. I yelled and screamed
I admit it but it is tiresome to detail.
Suffice to say foolishness is rarely dramatic enough
For me

So finally
And then

I began to ask questions
Will gratitude build a raft of humility?
Perhaps I must wait for conduct to return
While practicing the other neglected traits

Or maybe I will
Float on the current of trust
Letting the reeds of plenty
Caress my generous legs

Small nibbling sunfish clean
My open hands
While the tide pulls me out
To the mother of all
Frail, mistaken pilgrims
To be made anew

And then will I be prepared to receive
My wayward mojo
From Conducts noble arms?

Or is this me,
now?