Rev. Gerald Dillenbeck Poet Free verse

Prodigal Youth

Why do you always forgive
and invite me back home?

Why do I respond to my Prodigal Son
with prodigious love?

I guess.

Because we share an Older RightBrain Stem,
right down into our DNA-drenched bone marrow,
that always feels cooperatively drawn toward trust,
and dissonantly struggles
with competitive Me-Win v We-Lose compromises

with how ecological NotSelf
and ego-logical Self would prodigiously thrive
if we all could remember
we all have been the Prodigal Child,
if only in our rebellious imaginations

And we all have potential to be Prodigious Elders,
not choosing between
growing natural health
and starving familial wealth.

Like wanting your LeftBrain logical wellness cake
while RightBrain eco-dislogically over-eating it too.

Said like a Win/Win 
prodigiously thoughtful
prodigally intuitive
neurosystemically wise Elder.

I guess,
for the best.

Prodigiously.

Appreciate your reunion invite
but this annoyingly prolific habit,
always needing the last polysyllabic word ,
continues driving me prodigally away.

What can I less prodigiously say 
to help you feel better
about this run-away compulsion 
of mine?

Preferably,
and parabolically, 
nothing.

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