Let’s

Act

Out.

Come along

Play with me

Take my hand

You will see

The wonders that were meant to be

Enjoyed between a he, a she.

I  promise.

You won’t regret it.

 

All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players
~William Shakespeare

 

“We are like children building a sand castle. We embellish it with beautiful shells, bits of driftwood, and pieces of colored glass. The castle is ours, off limits to others. We’re willing to attack if others threaten to hurt it. Yet despite all our attachment, we know that the tide will inevitably come in and sweep the sand castle away. The trick is to enjoy it fully but without clinging, and when the time comes, let it dissolve back into the sea.”

— Pema Chödrön, “When Things Fall Apart” (In The Face of Fear)

And here is what came from it…

This day

May be my last.

I do not think this is the case.

Whoever does?

But of course, it could be.

If it is, then,

When my clock strikes before stopping,

Will I have lived this last day perfectly?

Will I have

Thrilled at every wonder?

Savored precious moments?

Smelled the Jasmine, Honeysuckle, Sweet Acacia, you?

Given all I had to give,

Left nothing worth this earthly passage wasted?

Will I have touched, loved, caressed, smiled, encouraged, adored, amused

At every opportunity?

This day

May be my last.

Better get busy!

 

I think survival is at stake for all of us all the time.

Every poem, every work of art, everything that is well done, well made, well said, generously given,

adds to our chances of survival.

– Philip Booth

 

In the rush to write one a day

The push, the pressure, the sway

I’ll not deny, nor delay

Quality

Integrity

Value

And

Verity

Because with each stroke

I AM adding

To our chances of survival.

It’s vital.

 

“Before we can find peace among nations, we have to find peace inside that small nation which is our own being.”

~BKS Iyengar

 

Despite the war waging in her bones,

She is at peace within her own being.

Hugging her au lait with both hands, tight

She wonders if she has the right

To be content at this “late stage,”

Knowing full well that she will not age.

Is happiness allowed to those

Whose end time everybody knows?

(Or at least assumes)

If she was proof, and proof she was

That death’s imminence really does

Inspire one to settle accounts

To create closure, and achieve what amounts

To a simple acceptance of this fact:

We all die.

Then be happy, she decides.

And she is.

So

She finds joy in every day that’s left.

Soothes those who feel bereft.

Pays her bills,

And writes her wills.

(Both living and otherwise)

In the here, in the now~

She kisses and hugs whenever inspired.

She drinks good wine, she naps when tired.

She tells her loved ones how she feels.

Enjoys, when possible, really good meals.

She takes her meds and walks every day.

Paints, reads, writes, and laughs and plays.

Because soon

Very soon,

She won’t be able to.

Because we all die,

And then begin anew.

*Inspired by Big Tent Poetry

 

The brilliant Arthur Rubenstein once said, “Love life and life will love you back. Love people and they will love you back.” 

Generally, I agree.

Here is a poem inspired by that famous phrase: 

It has been my experience

That a person gets what she gives.

Put it out there

And it’ll come back,

With interest and dividends.

Now, knowing this

A girl would think

That only good would leave her.

But now and again

Humanness steps in

Then viciously takes over.

Because I know this is the case,

I work at learning to erase

Those inclinations that would lead

To lust, gluttony, envy, wrath, laziness, pride, greed.

And I love.

I love life and it loves me back.

I love people and they do too,

Mostly. ;-)

© 2012 Kim Nelson Writes Suffusion theme by Sayontan Sinha