Sweat and Burn

I guess I'm getting older;
Things don't work like they used to.
So, I got a little program
That shows me what to do.

I play it on the t.v.
And this guy is jumping 'round
Doing all these calisthenics
To a really upbeat sound.

It's supposed to make me better;
Get my heart in shape and all
But, after a few minutes
I'm down to just a crawl.

My muscles just don't work like that --
The way that they're supposed to
So, I only do them part of the way
Like the guy says I should do.

But, after thirty minutes
He hasn't broke a sweat
While I'm dripping a big puddle
There on my workout mat.

I huff and puff around the floor
While he durn near sings a song
And bounces all around the place
Bringing everyone along.

I wonder if it's worth it,
This working up a sweat;
In time I should get better
But, I'm not about to bet.

Just how I got in this bad shape
Keeps pressing on my mind.
It must be all those tasty foods
That to me have been unkind.

So, I jump and punch and run about
And sweat a bucket more
While I tell my wife it would be nice
If she got some ice cream from the store....

Just Some Words

I ramble
I digress
I can't think!
What a mess.

Gotta focus
Much to do
Get organized!
So, what's new?

Get prepared
Lock it down
Finish up!
Lose the frown.

It ain't that hard
Just speak your mind
Open up!
Don't act so blind.

It's just a post
Just messing 'round
Type some words!
You're NOT profound!!

Some Days the Wind

A faint odor of dust lingers on the air
As I sit inside and work from my chair.
Around me drones the incessant roar
Of the howling wind outside my door.

It is days like this I wonder why
I live in this place windswept and dry
Where the sky can turn an ugly brown
From dirt that is blowing round and around

And driving the road is like a video game
Where tumbleweeds roll down the middle of same
Where fields try to move one grain at a time
Or, sometimes as rocks as big as a dime.

Yep, it's times like these that I'd like to go
To a place where it's green and the wind doesn't blow,
Where trees touch the sky and bright waters flow
And cattle graze in the valley below

But, then I remember the wind too shall pass
And the beautiful sky no place can surpass
With air that's so pure you can see for days
As I dream in the warmth of gentle sun rays;

Where humidity is never  too high or too low
And the quiet gentle breezes always blow
Across the endless sea of grass
Where once the scouring wind did pass.

Springing Into Eternity

Spring is upon us.  I saw a tree in full bloom yesterday -- looked like a cherry tree.  But, there was frost on things this morning too.  The buds are swelling and it is just a matter of days before green leaves will make their appearance -- likely to be frozen back.

Why is it that Spring sends ripples of restlessness through us?  Is it just the feeling that winter is finally coming to an end and we are anxious for warmer days?  Or, is there something deeper that resonates with the season of renewal?

I always look forward to Spring because I enjoy getting out and working in the yard.  I don't garden any more because I travel so much.  But, I can always find something to keep me busy.  It is my therapy.  It is relaxing to spend time in physical labor -- even if it is pulling weeds out of the flower bed.

I remember growing up, the neighbor across the road from us always had an immaculate yard.  It was his therapy.  He had a very stressful job but, he could come in from work and spend time working in his yard and the cares of the day vanished.  My yard is not immaculate.  It is a "country" yard.  It isn't trimmed to perfection.  But, it is a bright spot around the house that creates an oasis in the middle of the surrounding pasture.

I think we all, deep down, have some connection to the earth.  Perhaps it is the primordial DNA making itself known to us.  Even for those who live in concrete and glass, the green of the countryside exerts a pull that draws us to vacation where there is vegetation or water or mountains or something that is in stark contrast to the man made structures of our environs.  We are drawn to the earth.

Perhaps, Spring is just a reminder that our cares will someday be wiped away and we will spring anew in an eternity that is an even greater contrast to life here and now than Spring is to the passing Winter.  It is a hope that we can have only in Jesus, our Savior.  For He alone is the source of a renewed life.....just like Spring.

Musings and Amusements

Often I will have the desire to write but, not the inspiration.  One might think the two would go hand-in-hand but, not always.  The desire comes from knowledge.  It is knowing that I should write.  Inspiration is knowing what to write.  Oh, for a Muse......

In many mythologies the Muse(s) play(s) a role.  Almost all agree that there are three muses, but, classical interpretations place the number at nine.  Whatever the number, it is generally agreed that they are feminine and inspire works of art -- typically either music or written word. 

According to Wikipedia (I laugh at myself when I find that I'm citing such a source) the British Poet, Robert Graves, popularized the concept of the Muse-poet in modern times.

"No Muse-poet grows conscious of the Muse except by experience of a woman in whom the Goddess is to some degree resident; just as no Apollonian poet can perform his proper function unless he lives under a monarchy or a quasi-monarchy. A Muse-poet falls in love, absolutely, and his true love is for him the embodiment of the Muse... But the real, perpetually obsessed Muse-poet distinguishes between the Goddess as manifest in the supreme power, glory, wisdom, and love of woman, and the individual woman whom the Goddess may make her instrument...

I suppose I have never been a particularly romantic poet, so, there might be some question as to how this might apply.  I suspect the above reference applies only to the Muse Erato whose domain is love poetry.  My Muse, if indeed I have one, must certainly be Euterpe whose realm is lyric poetry.  But, I suppose the argument could be made that my lyric poetry is often not particularly lyrical but, instead more closely resembles free verse.

I've often thought that I would enjoy trying my hand at epic poetry.  If I did so it would be necessary I suppose, to call upon Calliope in whose realm that would fall.  I have written some history but, to my knowledge never called upon Clio.  I have written what might be considered sacred poetry, but, my inspiration has been Jesus, my Savior, not Polyhymnia the Muse of that realm.

The other Muses are in areas that don't interest me.  The are:  Melpomene, the Muse of tragedy, Terpsichore, the Muse of dance and song (OK, I've definitely been into the song bit), Thalia, the Muse of comedy and finally, Urania, the Muse of astronomy.

I guess I am writing this piece merely for my aMUSEment.  Obviously, it can't be set to MUSic.  I suppose it is merely a product of my MUSings on why I must write.....

Motivation

Sometimes a project comes along
That has long-term importance to me
But, I seem to get lost in the struggle
Where completion is not there to see.

I worry and fret when I shouldn't
'Cause the answer is right in my hands.
I should just knuckle down and do it
And not sweat what perfection demands.

But, instead I'm wrapped up in the details
And I seem too caught up in each one
When I really should plow on ahead
And get this big project done.

So, why do I keep putting off
This thing that I'm needing to do?
Is it that I'm just lazy?
I really don't think that is true.

It's just something that is not urgent
With no looming deadline attached.
It is the type of big project
For which I am not well-matched.

I guess I'm just making excuses
'Cause it's something I don't want to do
So, I leave it until a time later
And move on to something new.

Heavy Load

Sometimes the cares of this world overwhelm
And we just don't know which way to turn.
It might seem that we've been pushed out on a limb
Or from pan into fire to burn.

For those who have nothing much larger than life
To turn to when times are so tough
It might seem like there is no end to the strife
And the feeling is you've had enough!

I'm thankful that there is someone for me
Who listens to my every care.
He helps to carry the burdens you see
For it's Jesus who is always there.

"Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest." -- Matthew 11:28

Sometimes A Sunrise

Sometimes a Sunrise

Will light up the sky

As though the world were on fire.

Sometimes it bursts

With rays of the dawn

Leaping out from the dark horizon.

Sometimes a Sunrise

Presages a storm;

Vermilion splashed on the clouds.

Sometimes a Sunrise

Is just in my eye

And I can't really see where I'm going.....

Sunrise view from my back porch.

(The date stamp is correct, the time is not.)