So how much can a person do
In one short life or part thereof?
Cut off, one thinks ‘a lot’ – far more
Than he, in fact can do – because –
There is no measure built within.
We are quite blind – it seems to take
Encounters with reality
Before assessment accurate.
Four days now on construction site
I’ve worked half-days from eight ’til eight
(Though nothing else I’ve done at home)
But now – far better estimate.
Without the tasks of ‘plans’ and ‘choice’,
‘Initiative’ finds little voice,
In tiring day’s end I rejoice
Though just no time to play with toys.
Chores fall away, maintaining too,
I work and sleep – to work again
My mind quite focused on my task;
If I keep moving – little pain.
So strange to take supportive role,
No planning pipe-dreams in my head –
Fictitious yarns from whole cloth spun –
No longer leading, always led.
One item from ‘one-hundred-list’
Will now be stricken, that’s for sure
Is ‘build a house’ or some such thing
Such focus I could not endure.
It’s not that hard, surprisingly,
With contract-labor each with trade;
But all-absorbing is that task,
That’s all I’d do, with such plans laid.
I’ve got so many options now
Each all-absorbing of my time;
Perhaps, like these two weeks of work,
Some are an avocation line.
That lets me work as candy sweet
I chew – it goes away – that’s it;
I give without left-over load
Of bubble-gum, nor tax remit.
Each year one contribution make
To help out our community
Then let it go, as back to work
With focused productivity.