Ponderin’ and Wonderin’: A Conversation with Self

Ponderin’ and Wonderin’:
A Conversion with Self

the-thinker

At seventy-one, I’m hung
Up on my ladder’s last rung,
With its many steps and
The protruding door nails
Of an open door half hung,
Wonderin’ what more
In life could I have won,
 And why still try
To do somethin’
 BIG
Before I’m done?

Shouldn’t I now commit
To only havin’ fun?
Cease creating toil,
Strife, ‘n’ strum?

Cease makin’ a mad dash —
My last dash left
To make s
omethin’ of myself?
Wouldn’t I now be better off
Puttin’ struggle on the shelf?

 And sure, I ponder:
I may still achieve any thing
I’m willing to sacrifice all for
;
But I can’t have every thing:
The apple-pie metaphor,

The American dream —
And the gorgeous guy next-door!
(Though Positivists say
We can have everything
And even more!)

“Great! Really?!” I reply;
“Let’s get real!
Though I’d try till I die,

Exerting effort till I fry,
I can only be sure of old age,
Death, taxes, and the pill —
And drawing up
My final will.

Yet, hope springs eternally,
On up ahead —

It lies in wait for me still,
As the sun sets overhead.
I continue to ponder …
And wonder …
Wending my way up the hill …

Till suddenly I decide
Pensive thoughts to kill:
To take charge,
Get out of my head;
Change my thoughts,
Change my mood,
Change my stead,
By choosing to be happy
And in the moment, instead;
By making all that’s positive,
Pleasant, and good my Med;
Treasuring the wonders
Preserving the pleasures …
Nature’s bounteous blessings
Extending beyond measures —
An amazing and beauteous spread.

If we’re not busy livin’
We’re busy dyin’,

Woody Guthrie and
Bob Dylan so aptly said.
Thus, I’m back in the saddle again,
Movin’ ahead.
I’ve buried my worries
As though they were dead.
I won’t sweat the small things,
For as it’s been said,
“All things are small things.
It’s all in our head.
And only fools walk around
Where angels won’t tread.”

 2009/2017



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

busy livin’
We’re busy dyin’,

Woody Guthrie and
Bob Dylan so aptly said.
Thus, I’m back in the saddle again,
Movin’ ahead.
I’ve buried my worries
As though they were dead.
I won’t sweat the small things,
For as it’s been said,
“All things are small things.
It’s all in our head.
And only fools walk around
Where angels won’t tread.”

 2009/2017

 

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