NVivo 9

Just what will be in time that's left,
As bodies crave increasing rest,
Resources slow their upward climb,
Then curve their arc's resumed decline?

Relentless growth from summer rain
Resists control – subsides again
As seasons shift with tilting earth
From life to death to spring's rebirth.

A wave-form-flow is more the case,
With center-line that's crossed with haste;
We inward fight curve's downward flow,
And long instead to springtime know.

Adapt, resist, enjoy the flow?
The more we live the more we know;
As we stand back to see for real,
A deeper part of life we feel.

It's standing back that's hard for me,
Amidst the woods to forest see;
(NVivo 9’s a thoughtful tool,
Which clusters, links, it's thought-filled pool).

For power and thought each interface;
Inverse they flow for human race –
As power drops we give more thought,
Pay heed to what by life we're taught.

Me? I don't want to think, but live!
For me my thought's a tool to give
Me extra strength as power subsides –
A way to deal with ebbing tides –

At least at this stage of the game;
Before, it's flow was much the same:
“How can I now engage such power
To meet life's needs within this hour?”

I wonder, if I changed my thought,
Accepted “place”, from which I wrought
A life within its contours firm –
Then how to work with place I’d learn.

Stand back and really look at place,
Ask questions with increasing pace:
What power flows within this land
(Or not) – at least I'd understand.

Then change my life to work with place:
Its strengths and limits firm embrace;
Ask where along this valley floor
Do we reside, then look some more.

Ask what our role is here, today;
Adapt our lives of work and play;
Engage the life that's in this place;
Our valley-section now embrace.

Will that suffice for what remains
For me, now things are not the same?
Accept, engage, enjoy the flow,
As we now to our future go?

It looks to be sufficient size
That life can still in me arise,
Yet not so big I'm overwhelmed –
A place my size within Your realm.

A size which bigger than me is,
That when I die it onward lives;
My contribution to its flow
Will future generations know –

Not, “It was his” but, “What a life
Is in this place when seen aright –
All work emerges from its place
As we each other now embrace.”

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