Activity

Activity calls me.

And creative thoughts sink into the soggy mire
Dirt and peat and rock and mortar
Just one more event and I could say
“You, my love, my passion, my poem are done.”

Dust and laundry and droplets on a window pane
They interfere, what right?
Yet there they are, demanding social conscience
For friends and foe who never come to call.

I am a painter, poet, sculptor!
Perhaps, I'm only a house maid
Who desperately wants to serve the work.
While pieces of my life stand out of place.

Watering, feeding, planting, weeding
Just so it can grow and bring more interference.
My demanding menagerie of self inflicted nag
Looks at me through glass that needs a rag

But ideas and dreams and one more try for immortality
Stand quiet, gently pressing, waiting in the wings
Anticipating chance to live and speak
And bring their promises complete into my world.

For now, they only wait and pine
Activity calls me.