Today I am 15,000 days old. Happy birthday to me!
Of those 15000 days, I've spent approximately:
4000 days sleeping;
3121 days working for pay;
2000 days reading;
840 days in school;
Showing posts with label time. Show all posts
Showing posts with label time. Show all posts
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Stand and Stare
Having ridden my thumb extensively when a younger man, I am proud to post a poem from a child of the road.
W.H. Davies was a wanderer. He was a tramp and a hitchhiker and a train jumper. He was a hobo of the old school, working on cattle boats to come to America, jumping a train and riding off to new places. And along the way he took the time to notice the wonder of all that was around him, both the people and the environment.
He was infatuated with the romance of his lifestyle, and wrote four or five autobiographies, each time catching up to the point in his travels at which he was writing. And along the way he wrote poems, twenty-some books full of them, including even the Tramps Opera in Three Acts.
Leisure
What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.
No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.
A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
W.H. Davies was a wanderer. He was a tramp and a hitchhiker and a train jumper. He was a hobo of the old school, working on cattle boats to come to America, jumping a train and riding off to new places. And along the way he took the time to notice the wonder of all that was around him, both the people and the environment.
He was infatuated with the romance of his lifestyle, and wrote four or five autobiographies, each time catching up to the point in his travels at which he was writing. And along the way he wrote poems, twenty-some books full of them, including even the Tramps Opera in Three Acts.
Leisure
What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.
No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.
A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Growing Older
Today I went to Indy and visited for about an hour with a woman who was my first real girlfriend. In the seventeen years since I have seen her she has lived in Oregon, Arizona, Chile, and now she teaches at a University in St. Louis. Although time has drawn some thin lines in her face, she looks very much as I last saw her when she was not quite out of college. She is still very beautiful!
Speaking with her for that short time was quite a mix of sad and sweet. I loved (love) her dearly.
But I confess that while I was with her I was especially aware of the fact that I have gained weight and aged since I saw her last. I was very aware that I have aged, that my skin is beginning to show its age. As much as this does not seem to me like the sort of thing that I would ever think about, I did think about it. And it pained me that she should see me so much older. Even to me it seems foolish, and yet I almost wish that she had never seen me again rather than that she should have seen me so much older than when we were in love. But yet I also wish that I had it all to do over again. It would be sweet to have been able to grow older with her, not apart. And not to meet after so many years to see and feel the shock of age, but to slowly go through that process together.
So, it has been a very sweet, very sad, very introspective day.
Speaking with her for that short time was quite a mix of sad and sweet. I loved (love) her dearly.
But I confess that while I was with her I was especially aware of the fact that I have gained weight and aged since I saw her last. I was very aware that I have aged, that my skin is beginning to show its age. As much as this does not seem to me like the sort of thing that I would ever think about, I did think about it. And it pained me that she should see me so much older. Even to me it seems foolish, and yet I almost wish that she had never seen me again rather than that she should have seen me so much older than when we were in love. But yet I also wish that I had it all to do over again. It would be sweet to have been able to grow older with her, not apart. And not to meet after so many years to see and feel the shock of age, but to slowly go through that process together.
So, it has been a very sweet, very sad, very introspective day.
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