Resentments (a poem)

Sitting.  Fingers frozen, tapping on my laptop with
birds really chirping!
A cacophony of praise to the Holy One.

The wonder of it.
Sun shining. Blessed,
I am conscious of my dirty heart. So often
resentful, feeling left out or uninvited

to the party.

(I’m starting to think Facebook isn’t good for my soul) and

He says to me:

I want to be enough.
I Am.