Just Killing Time

Started this one over a year ago and set it aside to let it "mellow" - irony that you will understand by the end of the poem!

Just Killing Time

“I’m killing time” – it’s often said

as though it weren’t a crime

And most, I’d say, do it each day

in every hill and clime

Weapons vary, motives too

results are just the same –

Time is dead and can’t come back

no matter remorse or shame

Time is the stuff ‘which life is made

some portion comes to all

Each must decide how much to use

how much to let just fall

And killing time is often fun

there’s much to entertain

while we sit back and just observe

as such our lives don’t change

There’s not to show for time we’ve killed

No corpse, no blood, no gore

No line is penned, no music scored

No art to sit before

No house is cleansed, no food prepared,

no place is seen, no chore

We lounge and watch what others do

We never leave our shore

In years to come, when looking back

what memories will swell,

The ones where we’ve just lazed around?

The ones with time spent well?

Time we can use to learn, to grow

To master some new skill

To touch the hands of those hung down

To lift, to build, to fill

That’s not to say that recreate

Is bad, is waste, is wrong

‘Tis a matter of how it’s viewed

does it bless and make us strong?

But if our lives are focused

on fun, on merry, on mirth

then time it is, we’re out to kill

when time could lead to birth

Of gardens, paintings, poetry

paths trod, vistas viewed

There really is no limit

to a new life, a life renewed

So when you start to thinkin’

what to do to just kill time

dust off your dreams, get up and go

you’ve mountains yet to climb!

Grey Dawn

Clouds in the east
obscuring the rise
of the orb that adorns
our vast, arching skies

My waking was late
In a hurry I fled
Departing abode
down the road I sped

And rounding the bend
to the open land
on the west I beheld
a sight, oh so grand

The sun, still veiled
from my view, did sneak
Its rays through the clouds
to our snow capped peak

Grey clouds as a backdrop
the mountain did stand
aglow in the dawn
looking o’er the grey land

So rushed though I was
I did slow my drive
to take in the splendor,
enjoy being, alive

Evening

The poems keep surfacing once in a while - thanks for the encouragement Samara, Shanna, Khoren, Brett and Mark!

Evening

Evening, the act of leveling
spreading out a load
settling a score
bringing things closer to the same

Evening, the pleasant end
of what can be a hectic day
when people gather, or not,
and relax, enjoy, unwind

This language, it’s so confusing
which am I to do?
Get even, smooth what’s rough,
straighten a painting or table?

Perhaps evening is a time
to level the imbalance in my life
Read, exercise, call, attend - Or perchance,
watch the sun set and the stars come out

Poem arranged by wordle.net

Taxes and Gardens

Something happened this year that has never happened before – I filed for an extension of time on taxes.  Yes, I know what some of you are thinking, why are you talking about taxes in October – that shouldn’t be until April!  Thanks to Uncle Sam, you get a six month extension if you file, and suddenly, they aren’t due until October 15^th.  And, just as every year I vow to get my taxes done by the middle of February, yet actually get them done just before or on April 15^th, so I fully intended to get my extended taxes done by June, and actually got them done on October 15^th.  I was waiting for a key bit of information, which ended up coming from a simple phone call, on October 15^th (which, btw, could have been answered in the Spring). 

All of this means that I had THAT tax burden weighing me down for the past eight month – my initially intended deadline.  And the thing about this burden, is that you think it’s not there but it is and it grows heavier each day it’s not taken care of.  That’s not to say that you are always aware of the burden – like when you're on vacation, it’s easy to not think about – yet, as my family will attest, I got grumpier and grumpier as time wore on and the burden wasn’t unloaded.

So, on Thursday, October 15^th, at about 4:10 PM, my burden was finally unloaded, or actually, uploaded to my Uncle Sam.  By 4:12, I was on the back patio, sitting in a chair – looking at the clouds, my roses and the vegetable garden – all without a hint of guilt that I had not taken care of THAT burden.  I felt light, I smiled, I even laughed out loud, and I trimmed the spent blossoms off my long neglected roses.  While trimming I started to think about all the things I had put off until after I had unloaded THAT burden.  Projects were put off, my mind wasn’t focused, or some ideas were abandoned altogether.  I don’t think I will ever fully know the cost of opportunities lost.

Then this afternoon, October 16^th, I attended the service for the wife of a former co-worker who passed away two days ago, after a seven and a half year battle with ovarian cancer, her name was Laura Kelman.  It was the first Jewish service I had attended.  Eulogies were given by her husband – my friend - and by her two sons-in-law.  I had only met Laura, very briefly, once or twice, so I didn’t really know her – the over arching element of the eulogies was her love of laughter and friends.  One of the things her husband quoted, speaking of when we die is, “Let it not be said that life was good to us, but that we were good to life.”  He went on to say, that it is not about the lives who touched us, but about lives we have touched.  It was told by these three men and by the Rabbi, that when people came to visit her, even near the end, Laura’s focus was on them and what was happening in their lives.  The Rabbi used the analogy that each life is like a quilt, only the many pieces of fabric are not our life’s experiences, but they represent those who we have touched, and so, they become a part of our life.

So on the way home I was thinking about that analogy, and the gardener in me surfaced – our lives are like a garden and those who lives we have touched become the plants in our ever expanding garden.  The plants are of many kinds of varieties and each has a unique shape, size and effect on our garden, but they all add to the beauty of it.  Some are fragrant, some provide shade, some are showy, some are subtle.  The more plants we have, the greater the beauty of our garden and the more inviting it becomes.  Think about it, if we were the only plant in our garden, it wouldn’t be a very appealing place.  And, if our life is self-focused, it’s not very inviting either.

Now, combining taxes and the garden – just like a garden overrun with weeds, it is difficult to really enjoy the garden unless we get rid of the weeds.  If we take care of them early on, weeding regularly, they are easy to get rid of and don’t take up a lot of our attention – though it does require consistent attention to check for and remove the small weeds.  If however, we let them grow, the weeds become larger and larger and the effort to remove them becomes greater, more time consuming and can even seem overwhelming.  And left long enough, the weeds can impact the plants of our garden – causing them to become stunted, to compete for nourishment and possibly even to die.  This year, I chose to let the weeds grow and, though not utterly devastating, it caused me to neglect my plants and even kept me from planting more of my garden.  But with those overgrown weeds removed, I can focus on pruning and tending to the plants of my garden.

I wish I could say that I will always have my taxes done by the middle of February each year – but I don’t know if that will be the case.  But, I hope my garden analogy will stick with me and at times when I’m thinking about letting the weeds grow, I will pick up my bucket and head the garden to pull them out before they become a burden that grows larger each day.  I want to tend my garden with care and hope that I can be a plant growing in others gardens – in a spot that suits them and will add to the peace and beauty of their garden.

PS - I have been sitting in my garden this afternoon, while writing this and thinking about each of you.

Solitude

I start my workday,
in a cube
A place to sit and
think, subdued

But, oh the din
One voice can make
Breaking in
for "just talk" sake

To think, to muse,
productive time
Cannot be found
within this clime

Must get away
To a place not still,
A place where
MANY voice trill

Rooms for waiting,
rooms for lunch,
Space where people
Gather, bunch

Many voices
Intermingle
None stand out
None are single

In these sites of
Solitude
I can find an
Interlude

Thoughts flow freely,
Ideas gel
Wits can wander
'long new trails

Notes on paper,
drawn by hand –
These will help me
Take a stand

Keyboard near,
in cubicle now
Notes won’t let
my focus cow

Singular voices
don’t interfere
But if they do,
Solitude is near

Time Together

This weekend Laurie and I changed our plans of doing things around the house and went to BYU to spend time with Atkin and his girlfriend, Allyson, for his 19th Birthday.  On the way, we spent the night in St. George at my Mom and Ralph's.  We arrived about 10 pm, greeted each other with hugs and kisses and visited for a while before going to bed.  There is something about being present with the person and visiting.  We could have shared the same information on the phone, but being present and creates a whole different experience.

When we arose to get on the road, mom and Ralph were already up, even though it was still dark at 7:15.  We again got to visit and hug and kiss and see each other as we departed.

Laurie and I arrived in Provo and got to our seats for the BYU vs UNLV Football game just after BYU scored 7 points.  We were across the stadium from Atkin and decided to meet at half-time, under the south bleachers.  I was waiting when Atkin and Allyson walked up from my side, so I saw them at the last minute.  My immediate response was to reach out to Atkin and hug him close, before even really looking at him.  Then I shook Allyson's hand as we were introduced and then I got a chance to look at them.  When Laurie arrived a moment later, the scene was repeated.  It's interesting that the desire to touch is such an overwhelming immediate response.   I think it's because our spirits love that close contact and "feeling" each other, even if just for an instant - a longing to reconnect and bouy and lift and be edified.

After the game, we met up again.  Then after time sampling chocolates, browsing together at an art gallery, having a fun meal at Tucanos Brazilian Grill, opening gifts at the dorm, and attending Sacrament Meeting with Atkin the next day - we again lingered in the hall and hugged and kissed and held hands as we parted.  A stop at Becki and Paul's, in St. George, which included a brief visit from mom just before we departed, resulted in the same things - hugs, kisses and holding hands.  Then arriving at home we were greeted with hugs, kisses and hand holding.  Even Penny lingered and leaned her head against me harder and longer than she normally does.  Physical touch and spirit touching spirit - what a wonderful way to connect!