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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