Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Poem: Lent


You sip your tea,
slowly savoring
the tang of orange
and the sharp taste
from Ceylon.

You down the stairs of your hotel,
and stop at the front desk
to discuss the weather,
and the temperature
of the clerk's life.

You pause as you walk out the door,
and breath deeply, taking in
the orange glow beyond the trees
that signal morning's meandering start.

In the office you pause to write a poem,
and listen, listen, and listen some more
as those around you, somehow aware
of your aura of endless time,
pour out their hearts instead
of merely reporting the day's events.

On the drive, you park at the edge of town
to watch the glowing clouds
as they waft past the church,
a peaceful parade in the near dark.
And then,

you work, more slowly, resisting
the urge to gallop through your day,
to give in to the myth of speed
ignoring the illusion
that faster somehow
means more.

And through a miracle,
no less gets done,
as if in giving up, the universe
has re-arranged itself
to give you everything,
and more.... peace.


The picture was taken in Pawlet, Vermont. You can click on it for a larger version. And yes, I am trying to give up speed for Lent. It's harder than it looks.



Shadow said...

you're so right. whether we rush through things or just do them as they come along, we end up doing the same amount. its just the quality of the time spent that's different...

Margie said...

So enjoyed this poem!
It's quite wonderful!
Thank you, Tom!

Margie :)

Lyn said...

I think you really caught something there..the universe has given us everything we need..sort of up to us to know it!! Really like this poem..