Calling all sages to answer a riddle
why is it always when I'm in the middle
of sorting my papers and bobbles and books
and tidying up all my crannies and nooks
I find myself scurrying this way and that
distracted, fragmented,my efforts fall flat
while dreaming of freedom found in a clean slate
I wake up still chained by the clutter I hate.
At home or at work the conundrum remains
I print, copy, sort and start over again.
Some pieces of paper I've handled so much
I'm worried they'll soon fall apart at my touch.
They come out from bins, from baskets and cases
spread out over desks, floors, available spaces
So patiently waiting for my disposition
they welcome with joy each new printed edition.
Then panic ensues, there is company coming
I kick into high gear, all cylinders humming
It all gets heaped back into its hiding place,
It looks like it's vanished without any trace.
There's no fooling me, as I know where it's hiding
I can't shut out ongoing internal chiding
But then joy of joys, I find some time to spare
Will I clean or sort or turn quickly to prayer?
Despite claims of wanting a clean peaceful home,
the answer is obvious; I've written this poem.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
Maybe we should trade piles. Sometimes an objective sorter is just the ticket. We can be efficient without letting sentimentality in the way. But wait, we would likely just take each others papers home. Don't give up; nothing is impossible for God!!
Oh Deb, I hear you! I got rid of some piles in that quiet oasis between the end of the year and the start of the new getting going and it felt so good. I want to relentlesly pursue the goal of purging my files! Maybe we should pray for each other.
hurrah a new year posting! sorry I didn't check back. Keep writing, and thanks for the chat on Sunday.
Post a Comment