[stylist] new poem: Living It

[loristay at aol.com]

I love this poem.  I am continually impressed with the quality of your work.  Have you published a book of it?  If not, you should do so.
Lori



-----Original Message-----
From: KajunCutie926 <KajunCutie926 at aol.com>
To: stylist <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Sent: Mon, Jun 11, 2012 9:38 am
Subject: [stylist] new poem:  Living It


Last night during our division board meeting I  mentioned a poem I'd 
written that had really sprained the brain.  We were  given fifteen words to 
choose from and at least one of the words must be  included in a poem.  You 
could 
use one word or all fifteen or any number in  between.  Well, in a very 
fun-spirited email the gauntlet was thrown down  and like the bull charging the 
red cape I decided to give all fifteen a  go.  
Here are the words we had to use, followed by the  poem.  It is both 
attached and in email.

The required words to choose from:  compare,  quality, brick, cookie, tea, 
division, arch, mortality, orchestra, substitute,  split, diving, flat, 
juvenile, siding.
 
Living It
 
 
How  does one compare the quality of life
to the quality of living it? Perhaps  there is
no comparison because the life we are given
is not our choice but  the living of it is.
There is a division, an imaginary arch that  will
split the entities of choice and predetermined
reality. This will  impact the other but not always
determine the journey of our mortality.  Extraordinary
circumstances may do this but even then we are often
given a  chance to change the seemingly unchangeable path.
The brick, on the hand,  would likely not choose to be a brick,
but it has no recourse, no offered  options. Nor does
the cookie and tea have that choice as they are but the  culinary 
products  of another's whim. Neither can substitute a different path.
Our avian friends  or their friends of nature cannot truly conduct
an orchestra of their  choosing for the arias are already written
and the conductor already holds  His baton. But how fortunate are we! 
We  can choose to go diving into life headlong knowing we may land
on our feet or  flat upon our backs. We can peel away the siding of
our juvenile dreams, our  adolescent schemes, allowing
each to spill into our adult truth, into the  life we have been
handed, and there the magic begins!
We mold and we  sculpt. We paint and we write. We tidy
up some imperfections, leaving a few  to keep us honest.
And we live! We take each moment into our hands and  we
breathe of it. We feel the wind and we touch sky. And we thank
the  master conductor for allowing us to offer our own
contributions to living and  leaving our imprint on a life that
we hope will be remembered well.
How  very fortunate we are, indeed! 

 
_______________________________________________
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