FIDDLESTICKS

What is the future? What is the past?
The present is fleeting; it just doesn't last;
And the moment we savor that brings all to light
Becomes but a memory. It just isn't right.

I guided my actions with maps that are aged
And so made the time being as if it were staged
As I coped with conditions 'neath a weight of resentment
Presuming the future would bring some contentment.

Fiddlesticks! Balderdash! Phooey! Pshaw!
From younger to older is time's only law.
And what's most important is outside of time.
Without the I AM there's no reason or rhyme.

So it all works together--the joy and the sorrow,
A past act of love gives us hope for tomorrow,
And we welcome it all with the faith of today.
With yesterday's guidance, for the future now pray.

I was counting the days until I retire,
Going through each workday as if treading through mire,
Remembering the freedom I had long ago,
Seeing not my blessings but a long row to hoe.

I've dwelt on the distance but not of the measure,
So much have I missed of the things I should treasure.
My children are growing so quickly and, yet,
It's on future plans that my eyes have been set.

So blind have I been, so senseless, so numb;
I no longer live for what may never come;
We have been blessed in so many ways,
I'll leave to another the counting of days.


-Dale Lund


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