That damn belle dame Time has been having her way with me of late. Too many calls on my consciousness temporarilly killed the poetic connection. Involuntary offline at home makes for a matched set in Ah-El - ’Gone dark’ in all domains. On a recovery mission to complete as many unfinished tasks as possible. I contemplate Lao Tzu: ‘Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished’. Apologies to those awaiting poems.
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Sorry just couldn’t resist it.
Doing Nothing
I have sat for hours
entranced by the ecstatic dance of butterflies
in the singing stillness
of a summer afternoon.
And gazed in rapture
at the soft delicate
radiance of petals.
Spent days and months and years on end,
wandering and pondering
and just sitting still,
from early morn
until the last warmth
had vanished from the rays of the sun.
I know the art of doing nothing,
and I have done it well.
And on the other side of the coin,
at the other extreme,
I have filled each moment
from break of day
to pillow touchdown
with total busyness.
frenetically driven
single-minded
purposeful
determination,
with no time to pause,
or contemplate,
or even to draw breath.
Why the apology? An apt poem is excellent medicine for one who is once again taking breathing lessons! Thank you.