I WOULD RATHER

I would rather have fifteen years of calm than fifteen minutes of fame.

I would rather be an aged oak standing firm upon the ground than the rush of many saplings that are scattered all around.

I stand against the axmen with ambition to cut me down.

He hacks against my sinew well knowing I am bound.

I would rather be a mocking bird dancing on the wing, for my stage is not ambition and I truly like to sing.

So there you have the mighty oak with a bird to dance its crown.

Laughing at ambition for none could cut him down.

Savor the day and slow down.

Life is long if you choose.

RAMBLING OF THE WAYWARD MIND

Caught with relief on a cool morning after a long stretch of summer heat,

 as the clouds shroud the morning sun,

I’m beset with contemplations of the labor of the day before.

The world around is buzzing with busyness as each individual chases the necessary needs of survival, of want, of pleasure.

This amount’s to labor for the most of us, with the manipulation by the cunning, which are the least of us, that conspire to avoid life’s labor. But always is the constant churning of ambition.

Imagine an iron anchor for a sailing vessel attached to an unbreakable chain.

Now, cast it overboard, hard upon the rocks and feel the wayward ship come to a stop.

Slow the mindless ambition, and rest.

Long life is not hurried.

Be not bored with simplicity and take time to taste and savor.

And the cool breeze washes over me, a breeze I would not have felt lest I stop to feel it.