I have only 5 minutes this morning to write a few frantic words on these pages. The innocent looking tyrant sitting atop the piano ticks away unrelentingly toward 7:45. The cheeky thing chimes the quarter hours in a cheerful way, never knowing that it’s making me nervous.
I MUST walk out the door by 7:45 to make it to work on time. BUT only one more time after today. Then MY timetable will be in effect.
Perhaps no less busy, but arranged by me, myself and I! The “I” that was loaned out for a price all summer long will have to come home and clean up the mess that has been piling up all around. It is sort of annoying to realize that in reality I have had two jobs. Home and Work. Home got the short end of the stick. The “soft place to fall” has become a dust bin and a disorganized neglected hulk.
All that is about to change. Look out! I am a “short timer” at work.
I might do any number of hairbrained things. I’m a loose cannon. Shoot, I might even break out in song in the middle of a spreadsheet!
Uh oh…. The clock chimes, gotta go…
As promised though, here is my poem written about a certain lake I knew once….
[album 65561 Waldo Lake.JPG]
Along your winding shores,
The crystal waters lap at the toes
Of great gray stones that rest secure,
Holding the woods at bay.
Layers and layers of fir needles
Carpet your mossy boundaries,
Making each of my footfalls
Echo in muffled thumps.
The leaning saplings
And the rotting stumps,
Sit quietly near the bracken
And gaze at your waters in wonder.
On this still autumn day
No waves splash and chatter.
Only a slow smooth ripple
Travels on your surface.
Always you beckon,
“Come walk with me.”
Oh how you soon you forget
my human limitations!
You mistake me for my ancestor.
Who gazed to the end of creation,
And walked with God
In the cool of the evening.
Do not taunt me autumn waters.
With reflected yellow maples
And rusty red leaves
That dance on your shoulders.
Oh, I am of these earthy elements,
That you have played with since your youth.
But a water skipper and I
Are worlds apart.
You take advantage of me,
Blue black in the afternoon sun.
For you know my secret desire
To walk upon your surface.
You try to appease me
By pretending to gaze
At the mares tails in the sky,
At summer’s melancholy end.
I am trapped here on the shore.
Fiddling with floating leaves and sticks.
Watching them dance,
In their miniature harbors.
But wait you, oh mystic lake.
My golden day will come at last.
For I have made arrangements
With the One who formed you and me.
I will walk on your waters
And we will dance in your waves
For the Holy One has promised me
That this special gift will be mine.