Bony fingers sifting through the habits of a life Splitting needs from hungers as a clean dissecting knife Invoking an accounting of my ways. Golden-blooming hours mid dead days that wasted sun Myriad intentions; thousand starts; but pittance done Presuming on a bank account of days. Museless hours have hid his gold – please vend another year! Snoozing time is over; oil is low; the groom is near. With wick that sputters, wait for what he says.
If this is yours, it is good to continue. Is it recent and/or tied to your illness and recovery? Even I, who have no ear or patience, drew something from it. At the worst, it has been noted that both Tolkien and Lewis were failed poets, but their effort at it sharpened their prose to a point of excellence that few have matched.
ReplyDeleteThank you. Yes, it is tied to that. February was wild--no less than 4 urgent medical problems within a couple of weeks.
ReplyDeleteI don't feel gloomy or nervous or doomed, but I'm trying to re-evaluate habits and priorities--now that I'm reminded I have the chance.
I cleared the decks of everything for spring and summer, and it has been frustrating to see things I'd ordinarily have done, but couldn't, and right now don't have the energy for. All in good time.
FWIW, Charles William's tombstone reads "Poet"