Here’s a short poem I wrote. I know it’s corny, but I like the sentiment it expresses. And I’m posting it today because of the Monday theme.
Wish on a Monday Morning
For the week ahead—
May kindness flourish.
May peace reign.
May the children
Have a reason to smile
When they greet
The morning sun.
The August sunlight
entering the room
cannot quell
the dreary feeling that
overcomes me every Sunday.
Lying in my bed,
listening to Brahms,
while trying to take a nap
to fill the afternoon.
Waking up later,
the room shrouded in darkness,
with the day erased,
bringing me hours closer
to Monday morning,
and a reset of the week—
safe from harm:
Sunday still far away.
I’ve been reading another collection of poetry by Charles Bukowski that I borrowed from the library. I’m up to page 138 in What Matters Most is How Well You Walk Through the Fire, and I came across a poem Sunday evening that seems fitting for the resumption of work following a long holiday weekend.
This little verse by Buk offers inspiration to reset one’s focus and seems to urge readers to value each day above everything else.
Here it is:
This Moment
it’s a farce, the great actors, the great poets, the great
statesmen, the great painters, the great composers, the
great loves,
it’s a farce, a farce, a farce,
history and the recording of it,
forget it, forget it.
you must begin all over again.
throw all that out.
all of them out
you are alone with now.
look at you fingernails.
touch your nose.
begin.
the day flings itself upon
you.
Bukowski, Charles. What Matters Most is How Well You Walk Through the Fire.
New York: Ecco; First Edition, 2002.
Francis DiClemente 