Where does one find the space, the money, the freedom, to fulfill their dreams, escape from reality, and run through the fields of nevermore? Well, the reality of this is, I don't know if you can. Sure, if you were independently wealthy you might. But would you really appreciate it? Maybe it's the need to see everything and touch every texture of life that keeps us pushing ahead to a better ... you. Maybe it's the fact that some things, some dreams, can or never will be, and that keeps us stepping into the future with a sense of hope.
I don't know about you, but I have so many things to do...
Things to do
The stack has grown so tall
I can no longer reach the top
Without the aid of a ladder
The things at the bottom of the pile
Date back to my childhood
Something that seems so very long ago
These are barely remembered
Or, forgotten
Among them lies, a song
The Grand Canyon, wolves on a rise
Silhouetted by a pale yellow moon
Horses running on a field of grass
A doctor, a poet, scientific discovery
Paintings and instruments leaning in a corner
Furniture to be built
Planes to be flown
Fly line playing out behind Bonefish, slashing clear water
Garden paths of stone
A hooded raptor resting on my arm
Books to read
Stories to write
People to meet
Collections and photographs
Houses to design
Schools and cars
Rebuild an old Harley
I jot the newest of them down
Climb the ladder
And add it to the pile
A few of the newer ones tumble down
I descend, pick one up and read it
A trip to Scotland
I weigh it in my hand. (nice one)
I add it back to the pile
Right where I can see it
And go to work
© 2011 Tony Whitford
No comments:
Post a Comment