Ruminations On the Karmic Consequences of a Harvest of Sins
Weary, sluggish and silent with apathy and
disinterest, I sullenly reflect and
languish....
My thoughts—thick and heavy like
molasses—painfully churn and swirl in
and out of my head and spill against the
background of dead silence of my living
room....
They are in constant motion, while I sit in
the living room mute and gagged and bound
with the world-weariness of a lifetime and
stare blankly into empty space by looking
inward....
Even the furnishings around me defer to
my now sullen mood. Not saying a word
and bowing their heads, they hold their
tongues and keep their thoughts to them-
selves out of respect and deference for my
silent and solemn doldrums....
The flat-panel TV, otherwise always on
and hyper-gregarious, for once regards my
sullenness and apathy with its own....
I sit exactly thus—
alone,
but in the sympathetic company of my
furniture and belongings....
They whisper to me of a time when I was
sinful and wanton and remind me of the
need for redemption....
I remember, and take heed by repenting....
And by doing so, I have narrowly avoided
reaping and gathering the terrible,
karmic consequences
of an unspeakable harvest of sins
for myself!
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