There are things 
I could do 
but don’t need 
to be done 
maybe if maybe 
not maybe might 
kinda sorta day
maybe will maybe 
won’t maybe later 
I think that 
I’ll just stay 
in this pond
of my indecision 
a while longer 
letting the world 
run itself around 
do the backstroke 
maybe the crawl 
or maybe even 
try dog paddling 
maybe maybe not 

It’s the ease
and the absence 
like the very 
first spring day
without the cold 
winter wind or
the day that 
fall quietly arrives 
and the leaves 
turn over coloring 
it’s the silence 
of the church 
before parishioners arrive 
and the smell 
of forest floors 
it’s just this 
that greets me
every single day 

We live in 
and age of
instant desire and 
immediate gratification but
the really good 
things need to 
simmer and cook 
longer like a
hearty warm soup 
stirring every so
just to keep 
everything together and 
not to stick 
add to it 
some warm bread 
and you’ve got 
a meal that 
will satisfy forever

Finally oh lord 
after all this 
time my focus 
is on me
and my whimsy 
and not whims
such a waste 
and such folly
as are whims
low in value 
high in cost 
and so fleeting 
funny how whim
includes a him
and their nonsense 
on to tickles 
and glee and 
all of the 
other things that 
make me be

Slowly like ice
as it freezes
and then thaws
there’s a rhythm 
even though unseen 
a bed made
is a bed
to be unmade 
a cycle to 
be gaily ridden 
filled with adventures 
and the steady 
and silent syncopation 
of quiet normal 
ebb and flow 
stay or go 
here and fro