Running

With all the burden of the world

My green mother spends her days

Constantly sunning herself, she turns

In her roundabout ways

The wind runs on like a wild child

Heedless, with havoc plays
Day and night, teasing me

As I wait for its capricious rains

And that queenly cat on the windowsill

Who comes and goes or stays

Preening her perfect silky coat

All day she stretches and plays

Why can’t I be lazy and ambition-less

With all the time in the world?
Why should I spend it running scared
This little time in the world

Why should I not take a moment and pause

To take in the patterns of the clouds

Or just carry my share to the ants’ house

Myopic eyes mirroring our common doubts