Years have come and gone.
It used to take decades
for one year to pass.
Then it took weeks.
Now it takes days.
If
you worry minutes
and
fear seconds
then some sort of action should be taken.
To slow it down:
Do not succumb
to the general madness
of your fellow man.
When humans do
human things and
take human actions
do not worry.
Situational upbringing.
Environmental shaping.
Natural nurturing.
All displayed within our
human actions.
Do not worry.
Some answer is here.
Some answer to some question
you pondered
long ago.
And when squirrels jump from
branch to branch fighting or getting ass,
or when crows skirt the white line
to pick at a freshly flattened carcass,
or when salmon slap stones
struggling up stream to get that nut off,
or when otters decide to part hands taking stones
to shell fish,
simplicity's warmth
might
envelop your senses
might
dissolve those
dreaded
seconds and minutes.
Your day becomes a day
Your day becomes a week
Your day becomes a year
Your day becomes
any
damned
way
you want it.
The king
has nothing on this.
Floyd Crenshaw
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-whopper/
