Rest

‘Rest is a good thing but boredom is its evil brother”

Rest; we all need it. A good night’s sleep can fill up our energy tanks and send us off to face a brave new world all bubbly and inspired. (Or is that coffee?)

But boredom is something quite different. It can make people drink too much, start extra-marital affairs, rob gas stations, deface property and even make us fat. Where rest gives us energy, boredom sucks it away. The root of all evil is not money, but boredom.

So keep your mind occupied: read a book, go for a walk, call a friend or learn how to play the guitar. Or as my son says, “become the pharaoh of the world.” Whatever it is, set a goal and keep working toward it.

Love and Peace

The Backyard Poet

Taking the Backroads

My youthful dreams walked

A thousand miles

Through your summer dust

Your jagged face pressed

Against my calloused feet

Your solitude, a reservoir

For so many unwritten thoughts

I cried the day

They covered you in black

And carried away my innocents

On the back of their empty promises

Transitions

bird-1317599__340

Ah yes there’s the rub; life’s small transitions

A birth to youth, youth to age, age to death

Much too quickly my brothers and sisters

Have passed through their veil of reality

And now join the orchestra of rapture

Too quickly I follow their lanterns glow

Sing to me a song, my Angels of grief

I can’t remember my life from before

Carefree and chasing the forever more

Maybe there are some things that can be left unsaid. But, I love you, is not it.

When I was young my parents told me that I would wish I had this time to live again. I have to say that I thought they were a bit senile. Who in their right mind would want to live with no TV, cell phone or Facebook? Who wants to fish in clean water, breathe unpolluted air, or play in the middle of the street without harm? Who needs to sleep through a silent night or wake early to play in dew covered grass? Who needs simplicity, friends …family? Why would I long to hug my father, to kiss my mother’s brow, to tell my brothers and sisters I love them.

“Not me,” said the ignorance of youth.