Stop, I'm told, and smell a rose. Pause and take a break. So I comply. The smell offends my nose. Why don't you do what others do? I'm asked without words. But I'm not them. Must I pretend to be like you? What's wrong with loving work? Both the process and results? Rest is wearying. But labor refreshes and refuels.
I'm told it'd be better and cost less, If I hired the experts to do it. They reason true. I know. My time's too costly for stuff like this, I should just pay someone else. Again, they're right. I know. But money and time aren't the point, I do it myself 'cause I can. Joy has value. I know.
The rumble of wheels on gravel I prick my ears and take position For years I've tried diligently but failed Today is the day -- I will catch it today I launch with all the power in me It draws near and I lengthen my stride Barking fiercely and closing the gap A mouthful of rubber -- thrill of success Then searing pain and darkness close in As I ask myself why I wanted this.
I... Wanted... THIS!!! I wanted this... I... wanted this? I wanted this???
Once fed by melting white snow Tumbling quickly with great energy Living rock yielded to the potent push As it carved deeper and built strength Life's elements careening down stream Then dreadfully harnessed and tapped To suit the intent of designers Pounding and frothing for naught As twist upon turn changed the course Sapping the potential and power Till an inch deep and two miles wide Sluggishly creeping along the way Stagnantly pooling, nearly halting Releasing what was suspended All is lost by expanding too wide
An afternoon unallocated Retreat to the shop, pick something up "Dad!" -- A call for my help It can wait... I whisper to myself As I answer the call of a child An evening to write -- maybe a chapter Open the draft and read what I wrote Memory refreshed, prepared to compose A knock at the door draws my attention A neighbor needs help The story will be there tomorrow I guess The oil needs changing -- maintenance deferred A banging noise calls for investigation It'll only take an afternoon or so Maybe I should just pay someone else… Read the rest
What will you ponder When providence calls And you must answer soon -- Passing beyond mortal life And leaving all else behind Concern for loved-ones remaining? Freedom from sorrow and longing? Fear that there's yet more to come? Hope for what is yet to come? Regret for things left undone? Satisfaction in successes hard won? Hot anger and spite? Or calmness and quiet?
Would you pay a penny for a poet's rhyming words, That sent your soul up soaring in the heav'ns among the birds? Or the beauty of the artist who had captured morning's light, Painting a young mother who has nursed a child all night? And don't forget the music that inspires, calms or thrills, Took hours and hours of practice just to master simple trills. So please do not insult us and demean a pricelesswork work, With worthless bits of copper tossed with pity in your look. The slighting little tokens meant to ease your inner shame Are little more… Read the rest
Not quite feral and yet not tame Undisturbed by hovering parents Who watch quietly from a distance And see the joy of discovery Mostly free they wander the landscape Exploring the wonder about them Touching and tasting and seeing Excitement in the plainest of things Pushing limits and boundaries Taking risks and meeting danger Taught by nature to judge and adapt Learning lessons no school could teach
What to hope or work towards? My wants seem prone to fail, But making plans without them, Is just toil to no avail.