Enforced Sabbath

Rest, reset, resist the urge to do;
Just be, now, in this moment while it lasts,
This Sabbath forced upon you for your good;
Upon your pillow turn the other cheek.
Don’t forecast, formulate, or even fume;
Find the world’s fullness hiding in a leaf,
The utter excess of the things that are
Themselves but also somehow something more—
Let them sink into your soul like water into soil,
Trickling through the tightness of the years
To nourish needy, dry forgotten depths.
Unlearn your failure to appreciate,
Stop saving for tomorrow’s wastefulness;
Quit the restless rage at all that’s wrong, and
Delight yourself in making coffee right.
Remove your raft from rushing data streams,
Look around and “get what the writing means.”[1]
Get good at things that won’t increase your pay;
Please say the things you’ve always meant to say.
Remember how it felt to really laugh
Without the slightest tinge of grown-up care
And simply wonder like a child at simple things.
Then wash away the grime that has accrued
And see again the world’s resplendent hues.

 


 

1. Walt Whitman, Song of Myself (1892), 20.17

One thought on “Enforced Sabbath

Post a Comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s