The Poem Hunter

20160321_111741.jpg

The Poem Hunter

(when faced with a party at which poems will be read)

 

How do you find a poem when

Your head hurts and your eyes

Don’t want to read

When the grass needs cutting and

Your husband is due at the airport

When it must be true and worthwhile

And makes delight in people

Who understand that sort

Of thing.

 

How do you find a poem that

Matches the mood or lack of one

That teaches you what you

Already know about life,

To be true, or maybe you doubt

To be true. And most of

What you read is defying your sense

Of understanding.

 

Others find them, but you do

Not have the patience because

You have a headache and

The lawn needs mowing. How

Do you find that one special poem when

It’s obvious you feel guilty

About not writing

That poem.

 

The occasion will come and

Your turn, your poem, will be something

You couldn’t find, although it is

Probably out there somewhere

It’s enough

To make you wonder if

You even like poetry. Because

Sometimes, you don’t.

This too shall pass…

I didn’t feel very good yesterday, not awful, just not good.  In fact the last three days have been full of supposedly easy things being hard, supposedly reliable equipment being unreliable, and a mostly tolerable body feeling less tolerable than usual.  And the stress and pain culminated in a headache last night that was singularly awesome.  Well, actually I can think of three times when I had pain approaching that level and each time one aspect of it was that it seemed it would never end.  

This morning, on the other side of the worst of it, some words of a song came to mind –  “and time shall be no more.”  Frankly, today I am so thankful for the passage of time that I can hardly imagine being without it.  When no change of position would bring relief, when nausea nearly became overwhelming, one of my only comforting thoughts was that time would pass and so would this pain. 

This is not the first time I’ve thought about time (probably not the first time I’ve blogged about it either, but I forget).  The husband says I’m going off into an “alternate universe” direction when I try to imagine a timeless world.  And I wonder if that’s a bad thing or a good thing.  It is hard to think about seeing things that exist not sequentially as they seem to happen to us but all at once, outside of time.  To me it seems like this possibility could explain some of the mystery of God.  But I don’t pretend to understand – it’s just a feeling that it could be connected. 

Right now, I’m thankful for cyclical things, mornings and evenings, seasons, first and last, alpha and omega, even life and death.  I know that this universe with time written all over it seems to have been made for me. I’m okay with that.