Confusion

a poem by Mayank Mohan Pande

After many years I heard the pitter-patter of the rain,
And I began to collect my wits which remain.
To sympathetic ears narrate,
This pain and this confused mental state.
When the mind is full of all that has to be done,
And bewilderment inhibits the commencement of any one.
Remote from the state of bliss, this is some kind of paralysis.
Let us not brood over this malady,
And work out a remedy.
If I just have in my work some prioritization,
God will give back to me my concentration.