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I get very little done on bring your daughter to work day – and it’s AWESOME!

Yesterday I woke up with a head full of words, and poured them into this poem. It took about ten minutes to write, and maybe another fifteen to clean up; to do any more would be missing the point of the exercise – which is for me to get more comfortable with putting my work out there on a regular basis, even if it’s not fully baked.

Basically,  I kicked it around a little, scratched out and replaced a word or two as I played with my kids and made my way through the weekend, but that’s it – didn’t want to overthink, so here it is. Hopefully some folks will weigh in – good or bad, your comments are most welcome. Enjoy, and thanks.




“Grow Not Old, But New”


When I ‘woke this morning

Still sodden with sleep


Before headhum arose with

Day’s duties to keep


Made my way down the hall

Feeling more than one ache


And despite the night’s rest

Could not weariness shake


Rummaged ’round, ground the beans

Waited for the coffee


And by chance in the trash

Orange wrapper did see


And then realized this year

Halloween had flown by


While barely one piece

Of candy did I try!


But then for the first time

In a long time awhile


This grim realization

Turned to groggy smile


For insidious stretch

Age has weighed on my mind


Mindfulness of mere number

Ever-tightened soul’s bind


Tried too hard force-enjoy

What I used to do


Overthinking. Not living

Easy, honest and true


Haunted by things not done

Working, trying to cope


In a youth-worship culture

Felt I trapped on down-slope


Difference was in my past

If same pitch I did see


I’d have welcomed as hill!

Joy to roll down or ski!


So perception is All,

True, your body betrays


But inside I alone

Define all of my days


And staring right then

At that wrapper in trash


A light bloomed in my soul,

Sudden insight, so brash


I shall no longer look

At time as a line


For things in the past

Will not regret or pine


By resistance made false,

By acceptance made true


I’ll not fight but embrace

Things I now think and do


Be not tethered by time

But to moment be true


Molt the past every day

And not grow old, but new