The astrologer said I

suffered from

undigested wisdom,

in that my brain, overheated

by precepts, aphorisms,

sutras, maxims, and

discourses

had seized up

and become a

judging machine,

fouling my original good intentions,

and even that noble aspiration,

letting go,

was stained

with superego.

 

They advised

for my recuperation

that I attend to

small things

like feeding the cats,

sweeping the floor,

serving in secrecy

when there is

nothing to be gained

or lost, and

catching a glance

that will never come again,

.