Lost

Birds obey the time of day knowing instinctively

When to fly and when to light. Thursday dawns for

The rich and poor man all the same. From an early

Age we learn to obey the dictates of wind and rain.

Gravity pulls its weight keeping us securely grounded

In place. There are rules we are duty bound to follow,

Some are flexible, some meant to avoid or break.

I am most aware of my surroundings when I’m lost

And don’t know the way. Tomorrow arriving as Friday

Is of no consolation. Today matters, and for now I

Haven’t a clue which direction to take. Should I decide

To sit and wait, tomorrow is sure to find me, and more

Than likely I’ll see things differently. Nature has a way

Of reminding us how petty our worries can sometimes

Be. I see that there’s moss growing on this side of the

Tree leading me to believe that North is this way. Which

Tells me...well, I’m not really certain. I hope I turned off

The Mister Coffee before I left home. I guess I’d better

Get my lazy ass out of this chair and see.

Chris Hanch 3-23-17