Lists

“Because how we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.”
– Annie Dillard

Every day I make a list
and methodically
go from the top down
completing and checking off
each item, each task
in turn.
And at the end of the day
I take my finished list
and throw it away.
And the next day

I make another.

But at the end
of my Big To Do List
with everything checked off,
completed,
I still don’t know
who I am
or why I am here.

Well, I’m not really at the end of my Big To Do List. At least hope not, though there is always the stray lightening bolt, or the unseen bus speeding around some corner.  I’m hoping somewhere more in the middle, yet I think this still works.

Secret Language

Every part of you is a secret language.
Eye, mouth, chin,
shoulder, elbow, hand
all speak,
all sing.
Together, you are a symphony.

Imagine what your hips would say
to those who will learn
and listen.

The first line of this is from a Rumi poem called Having Nothing” and translated by Coleman Barks. It needs work, but I like the idea of where this might go.

The Trouble with Time

I have trouble
with time.
It is constantly sneaking
away from me,
hiding in the folds of a book,
under a cup of coffee
or behind a daydream

Like a cat,
it stays just out of reach
until I turn my back.
Then it rubs against my legs
nearly tripping me up

Particles, sprinkled on the path,
crunch underfoot
Waves, crash into me
submerge me,
knocking me down

I cannot seem to manage
this time;
so forgive me
if I keep you waiting

Sunday morning thoughts

I have been reading Rumi and Mary Oliver; most recently “The Truest Devotion” and “Wild Geese”.  They put me in a frame of mind to think of things like this:

There is love
And there are rules
And there is love of rules

Which of these do you worship?

May 5

Sunday morning,
May sunshine
pours
through the windows.
Outside
there is a new
tenderness
to the air.
The breeze sings
in soft tones,
drawing us out,
urging us
to reach
for the sun.
Join the chorus
and sing.
This is a time
for birthing,
for growing
for beginnings.
This is a day to
be alive.

Keeping the NaPoWriMo Momentum Going

Do not divide
yourself.
You are not
a math problem.
You are not
a basket of eggs.

Do not worry about
where the world ends
and you begin.

That breeze blowing
is your inspiration too.
Claim it.

I am reading “A Year with Rumi” as part of my morning routine. I think that has influenced some of my poetry, including this one. I hope your morning includes something thoughtful and enjoyable.