No Use for Poets

This world has no use for me--
it prizes poets not at all
unless they voice the maddening crowd
and sing some clarion call.

This world abhors a quiet voice

of fields and trees, of darting birds--

a pen that whispers on the page

with gentle, hopeful, heartsore words.

Spend no worry

Spend no worry on your chores.
Time is short, but it is yours.

Fill it in the best of ways.
Read some books and go to plays,

Laugh with children, skate in halls,
Never skip your family’s calls.

Bake with grannies if they bake.
Save room for a piece of cake.

Chess with grandpas if they play.
Debate and chat, listen, pray.

Worship where the Spirit leads.
Marvel at the life in seeds.

Weep when life leads you to weep.
Let them see you feel things deep.

On mundane things, waste no thought.
Time is short. It’s all you’ve got.