You must not lose faith in humanity. Humanity is an ocean; if a few drops of the ocean are dirty, the ocean does not become dirty. -- Mohandas K. Gandhi
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This Time
Oh, I have let my lonely tell me lies And sometimes I’ve believed them Committing days and stealing nights Allowing worry to both limit and abuse imagination While I wear busy like a badge A prize for losing languor Making Sabbath an exotic thing, like vacation, someday, Later.
And lonely says TOMORROW if I seem to hear the drone of my work inside its echo and its landscape of alone forgetting how to spell repose and how it feels to play
But thankfully, it doesn’t last Eventually, Always, Someday Someone loves me back to now trusting I’ll recall the ways to practice ancient healing arts like naps and tea and Sundays
Free again from lonely’s trance For what then would I pine today? What slow and lovely longing blooms here as I sit in quiet sabbath space just a little longer than the average fast food drive through takes?
As I feel the restoration of unscheduled time unstructured space, of a coffee-scented, slowed-down, unreasonably sunny summer’s day | Of a beautifully boring, lazy afternoon, an evening blessed with noisy bugs, and neighbor voices leaking through screen windows of another age
Of weekends framed in campfire smoke, radios and flickering light, even though full sunset doesn’t come till 10 O’clock The endless day turns endless night all endless summer long
And I love the seasons, all, I do I’m not really yearning for a summer of forever or for yesterday returning.
Just the power of the schedule-less The rest inside of willingness, Practicing choice over obligation And opening that door in me, to empty days of restoration
to all the space and weeds and breeze that endless summer used to be
Then in that space of nowness free of lonely’s busy lies Maybe I can hear feel see what life has been asking of me
this year this life this time. - RB Weeks 11-29-17 |
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