Can't Get No Satisfaction

"Sationes" by Julie Robison

It amuses when you talk of doing things
As if our calender was thus dictated, like the days of kings,
and instead of replying, I let my mind wander:
Feeling sorry for those who fill the clock and don't ponder
The un-amusing and ordinary act of eating ice cream
Perhaps bought after watching your team;
Staring at the headlines, but ignoring the news
and I smile and think, yes, this is what I choose:
An organic transition (not yet the flower, but beyond the seed),
not letting the Word get buried in the lede.
No! I decide where and when I want to fly a kite;
happily study the Cross to better understand humanity's blight;
at some point I'll wash the dishes and use too much soap;
talk to God and try to cope.
The sun does not always shine bright,
but it's possible to know wrong, and choose right.
There is a stigma today to say, "I am satisfied"
and so much of history cries out, "At least I tried!"
Made flesh, our Lord hung upon a tree
so that we can freely be.
If this is so, then how can we accept mediocrity, or ever be bored;
and how can there be people who so arrogantly deny the Lord?
I know there are children who are born of parents who never danced,
and those who can't be happy without their features being artificially enhanced:
so I can't accept mankind's dispassionate pleas for more,
when all they do is see living as a chore,
to be completed in the appropriate time
and, in the meantime, waiting for a chime.
How is that living? To only live for one:
less convinced of him, and more seduced by fun.

Last weekend: blessed by these two godly and goodly women

As originally published at The Imaginative Conservative (on Tuesday)