is a blog to which I've signed up. She delivers a new poem weekly. This one resonated with me as I ponder the elements of a life, well-lived and what constitutes a happy and use-full existence.
Even in paradise, the demons appear.
I am writing this enveloped in the cushions of a lanai chair,
silently fretting about love. Inside, a friend is pushing her body faster
through a workout video, displeased with her persistent inches. Another
is flagellating herself for not devoting enough time to creativity.
Here, with nothing to do but rest, we do our best to seize the opportunity,
but the gentle palms and blissed-out sea are less parable than tease.
It is hard to sit still, stay neutral, expunge our own worst self-made enemies.
But perhaps we're here to feel the burn, confront our private bruise and batter,
and see each criticism for its truth: distracting, needless, idle chatter.
Hm.
ReplyDeleteInteresting. Not sure I like it topically (what kind of self-absorbed gidget are you if you can't rejoice in a place of rest?), but as a poem, a concept, it hangs together beautifully.