live life.
So just what do we do in our spare time? Do we even have spare time anymore? But it would be so nice to just sit out on the porch and swing softly, listening to the night fall. "No time", gotta get the kids to practice, or back. The Henley's are coming over and dinner's not half done....
Where did we lose ourselves? Maybe it's always been this way. I don't recall my Grandmother ever being in a hurry though. Maybe because she's older and at some point you figure out that life's still there, no need to hurry. If it weren't there, you'd have no need to hurry, so why bother? Let the Henleys sit out on the porch with us, we'll have some cold fried chicken and those potatoes we put up, maybe the beans too. Mosey out to the garden and grab a few tomatoes. Some tea in a jug and everything will be fine.
Rush rush, everything is a rush. No time to just be. Everybody needs attention right now. Sit back, slow down, no need to rush around, will everything end if it's not done right now? It'll be there in a little while too, no sense rushing around to get this done, something else will just jump up and want to be done in a rush too. Take time to just be, let the flowers bloom when they get ready, pry them apart and see what it does? Just ruins them. It'll happen, now go look out across a field, watch the wheat sway gently in the breeze. Lay beside a lake, not a river, rivers are always in a hurry, but a calm lake. Watch birds dip along the water, they don't care about the time, maybe there's something there to learn.
Have you ever just gotten lost in a campfire? Not a big fire, just one of orange flames and soft sparks that wink out in a gentle death. Maybe a fire that was host to blackened hotdogs and flaming marshmallows just a little while ago. Maybe a spooky story was told around this fire tonight and little Jr. and his sister have just quit fidgeting and slipped off to sleep on a bed made on dirt and pebbles. Sleeping anyplace, the way kids seem to be able to. Maybe this fire, who's fed you and made scary shadows for the story of the man with a hook and now warms your feet as you stare into it, this fire now tends to your soul. Stare off into it and let it carry you away, watch the gentle undulations of flame as it dances in your eyes, reminding you of things that you should have forgotten long ago. Remember that time when.... Lean against your love and remember this time when.
Live life.
Where did we lose ourselves? Maybe it's always been this way. I don't recall my Grandmother ever being in a hurry though. Maybe because she's older and at some point you figure out that life's still there, no need to hurry. If it weren't there, you'd have no need to hurry, so why bother? Let the Henleys sit out on the porch with us, we'll have some cold fried chicken and those potatoes we put up, maybe the beans too. Mosey out to the garden and grab a few tomatoes. Some tea in a jug and everything will be fine.
Rush rush, everything is a rush. No time to just be. Everybody needs attention right now. Sit back, slow down, no need to rush around, will everything end if it's not done right now? It'll be there in a little while too, no sense rushing around to get this done, something else will just jump up and want to be done in a rush too. Take time to just be, let the flowers bloom when they get ready, pry them apart and see what it does? Just ruins them. It'll happen, now go look out across a field, watch the wheat sway gently in the breeze. Lay beside a lake, not a river, rivers are always in a hurry, but a calm lake. Watch birds dip along the water, they don't care about the time, maybe there's something there to learn.
Have you ever just gotten lost in a campfire? Not a big fire, just one of orange flames and soft sparks that wink out in a gentle death. Maybe a fire that was host to blackened hotdogs and flaming marshmallows just a little while ago. Maybe a spooky story was told around this fire tonight and little Jr. and his sister have just quit fidgeting and slipped off to sleep on a bed made on dirt and pebbles. Sleeping anyplace, the way kids seem to be able to. Maybe this fire, who's fed you and made scary shadows for the story of the man with a hook and now warms your feet as you stare into it, this fire now tends to your soul. Stare off into it and let it carry you away, watch the gentle undulations of flame as it dances in your eyes, reminding you of things that you should have forgotten long ago. Remember that time when.... Lean against your love and remember this time when.
Live life.
posted by PK at 10:47 PM
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