For the most part, routine describes the day.
Business as usual distracts the eye.
Process and procedure keep chance at bay.
Method over madness will justify:
the practical, simple, the tried and true,
reason over passion, temper’s excess;
and so, the day proceeds, unfolds on cue.
Function, not fanfare, the mark of success.
Minimise the risk of excitement’s flare:
small steps, not large, and look before you leap!
Treat the day as hostile, handle with care.
Treat mole-hills as mountains; as far too steep!
. Today’s containment is alive and well,
. With fires to dampen and seas to quell.
© Tim Grace, 20 October 2013
To the reader: Work has an inflated ego. This self-appointed, self-anointed, arbiter of time’s worth is a small-minded accountant. Given a badge, this officious miser of minutes scrapes from employment every last morsel of production. The yard-stick is a poorly calibrated measure of busy-ness; units of labour; toil and drudgery. The accountant’s grip on work-for-work’s sake strengthens and with throttling effect motivation is all but exhausted.
To the poet: I’m working on a holiday… aren’t we all? Work’s relationship with rest and play doesn’t have to be adversarial. If work is a drudgery, then the distinction is probably convenient; as in, I’m ‘going to work’ suggesting a dislocation from other creative pursuits. Ideally, work, rest and play are a natural integration of life’s energies; with each contributing to an overall sense of wellbeing.
Business as usual
Sometimes we arrive at destinations;
the result of an effortless journey.
Driven not by stress or consternations;
not chased, not pulled, not fuelled by urgency.
It’s then that we arrive as a ready force;
in full command of the traveller’s kit.
No map, no guide, just a natural course:
a passage through time, a comfortable fit.
Left to take this ‘natural course’ we become
our destination; and as such, arrive
fully prepared: readied, and in fulsome
frame of mind; eager to flourish and thrive.
. Pathways to wherever can not be mapped,
. they can not be copied or overlapped.
© Tim Grace, 3 June 2012
To the reader: The course of least resistance is one of many natural orders. A stream will meander around obstacles; seeking direction and guidance from the surrounding terrain. In this way a stream becomes its destination. In contrast, a fire will ravage its environment as it seeks to fuel an insatiable appetite for energy. The random path of a fire reflects a craving for instant gratification; there is no recognition of place in its destructive path. In this way a fire destroys its destination.
To the poet: The natural flow of consciousness identifies a good poem. The ease by which a poem flows around obstacles of rhyme and reason is a marker of success. There will always be creative tension in a poem; for the course can not be so easy as to stop the stream of thought. The rhythm of ebb and flow, as opposed to slash and burn, seeks resolution not resignation; agreement not argument; destination not destruction.