It’s pouring down rain as I sit here
on the front porch
smoking a cigarette,
up earlier than usual
because I was scheduled to play tennis
with an old friend I haven’t seen in awhile.
Just as I certainly wouldn’t complain
if I only had three slices of bacon
instead of four
while children starve in Africa,
I surely won’t complain about this storm in Georgia
washing away a chance for good exercise
while the west coast droughts
continue to dry out the California valley.
Water –
The most valuable resource?
Maybe…although oxygen is right up there.
Along with carbon, even though
it’s receiving a pretty bad rap these days.
Hydrogen is fairly important, too, I suppose.
Simple sugars for cellular energy…hell, I guess
there are a lot of things
we just can’t live without.
Laptops, IPads, comfortable beds, big screen TVs –
These are possessions we don’t necessarily need,
but damn if they aren’t nice to have, eh?
It’s one of life’s great pleasures
to sit on the front porch
with the first cigarette of the day
and watch the rain fall,
taking a break from social media,
from networking, from sending out submissions,
from corresponding via emails,
from working on the 17Numa site, from constantly
planting seeds in the effort to gain momentum
in this burgeoning path as a poet…
and now the sky really lets loose,
as if to say, “Scott, old boy, I hear ya…
take a load off, relax, and enjoy!”
There is a tree in my front yard
that has two knots in the trunk that look like eyes
and a curved indented line that looks like a frown,
and when it gets wet
the water drips from one of the knots
in a perfect way
which makes it appear as if the tree is weeping.
Who knows? Maybe it is.
Maybe it’s tired of standing so stoic and sturdy
no matter what conditions arise…
whether it rains or snows or there is a repressive
sweltering Summer heat to bear.
Well, I don’t blame it –
We all get sad sometimes.
We all need a good cry once in awhile.
There is a bit of chill in the air
as the end of August approaches,
just a slight hint of Autumn
peaking its head through the door,
announcing that soon the season will be turning.
With that means football kicking off,
though there will still be war in the Middle East.
With that means beautifully colored leaves,
though there will still be pillaging of oil fields.
With that means hot chocolate and warm blankets,
though there will still be rampant cancer.
With that means Fall festivals and pumpkin patches,
though there will still be starvation in Africa.
With that means Halloween and happy kids trick-or-treating,
though there will still be a drought in the valley.
I guess we can never truly escape
the fact that life has suffering and sorrow.
Maybe that is why the tree weeps.
I can understand its sadness,
though today I won’t be joining in with any tears.
There is plenty of bacon here,
and even a ham cooking in the oven.
Maybe I’m a swine for saying so
but I feel just fine right now,
despite all the world’s problems.
Though I don’t think I’m too much of a pig,
after all, there is suffering, yes,
but there is also a time for joy and thankfulness.
Sometimes it is okay
to simply watch the sky fall
and pretend momentarily that everything is fine.
If I could send this rain to California,
I would.
If I could send this bacon to Africa,
I would.
But my ego learned the lesson a long time ago
that I’m not in control of most things,
and so all I can do
is stay strong and healthy within myself
while doing my best
to reflect peace out into the world.
In that small way
maybe I do actually make a difference.
Recording via audioBoom