Poetry

the merits of slowness

A bright indisposition
I like to take my time
.
I’m not in any kind of hurry
Losing myself right now
.
Tell me what you’ve done

I’ll tell you what I haven’t

.
Can’t pretend I mind this
Sure beats sitting in traffic
.
My inner clock is broken

My kind of on time is late

.
What’s the point of busy?
What stress is worth it?
.
I like to lounge about

Play through my days

.
People think I’m simple
but that’s just fine with me
.
See everyone scurrying

Like a hive of honey bees

.
You won’t find me there
I’m up out of that chaos
.
I’m celebrating sloth

I’m vindicating languor

.
Not searching this moment
for the next and the next one
.
I have all of life to wait for

It suits me quite pleasantly

.
Reading, writing and singing

for no one and everything

.
Bubble baths in midday
Baking muffins with grandma
.
Listening to avian melodies
Witnessing fractured miracles
.
Maybe inconsequential

but everlasting in beauty

.
Trying not to capture too much

so that I can learn flow freely

.
Releasing designs of ego

for comfortable enjoyment

.
Giving easily of space and time
Allowing for more noticing
.
Maybe I’m not important
Maybe that’s a great thing
.
Maybe less of what I don’t need
Maybe more of what I do
.
Call me a lazy fool for a wink

I’ll happily stay crazy for peace

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