This week, our dear Walt was suffering once again with brutal complications due to lack of sleep. Our bodies and minds require proper rest, and they certainly have their way of letting us know they are not happy when they don’t get enough.
This week, let’s write a resting poem. Possibilities include sleep, hibernation, vacation, a break from the usual, bed rest, arm rest, foot rest, musical pause, and all the rest. Walt and I will start, and the rest of you follow whenever you like. (I think I hear Walt groaning over that last line from clear across Lake Erie).
And Walt? If you don’t get your needed rest, I’ll be scheduling a plane trip to your place for about, oh, a hundred or so of us to take turns forcing you to sleep. I rest my case.
MARIE ELENA’S POEM
Luke 8:25b. “Who then is this, that even winds and water obey him?”
What Storms May Come
Winds and waves threaten and rage.
The boat is small.
The collective faith, smaller still.
Winds and waves grow tranquil.
Relief gives way to query.
w.w. cummings and gowings – (i’m not afraid of you)
no rest for the weary
it does not matter how tired you are.
it does not matter that you are over-worked.
it does not matter what your brain cells dictate.
it does not matter how destructive it is.
all that matters is that you persevere.
“no rest for the weary” is not a theory.
it is just plain scary.
Today is a good day (would be great without this headache and blurriness). Thank you all for your kindness and thoughtfulness. It means much. I’m sure not all days will be this way. but today I write. At least it looks like a poem.
From Marie Elena: Glad to have your words any time we can get them. Sleep, friend.