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 

It slides
down side
face glass 
or window 
starting strong 
ending weak
stopping there
to pool
with others 
unable to 
go farther 
so group 
they do
losing whatever 
it was 
that they 
were before 

Some blossomed early 
others caught up 
and some were
late season bloomers
so goes the 
vast prairie life
filled with wildflowers 
planted by God
meant to tickle 
every single eye 
willing to see 
each of us 
has its heyday