My Own Personal Walden Pond
I’ve run at breakneck speed
all my life
to not be my parents.
Maybe I can stop now
and walk.
All my life I’ve filled my head
so as not to be empty.
Maybe now I can let be.
I love smelling soup
on my fingers.
I’ve been given permission
to return to an old way of being,
stay home, live simply.
What a relief not to be driven to excess.
If we are at end times,
maybe I can breathe deep
be filled with grace.
12 thoughts on "My Own Personal Walden Pond"
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I love the way you end this. It makes me breathe deeply!
The vividness and complexity involved in “smelling soup on my fingers” holds everything in this poem.
Thanks Sue I thought so too
What a strong and beautiful opening and message. And I hear you and agree. Thanks for creating and sharing!
What a beautiful poem!! It activated my senses and was so relatable. So relatable. Thanks for this!
This seems a follow-up to an earlier poem. I am so glad you had more to say on the subject of how staying home has extra blessings we seem to overlook.
This verse really hit me. Thanks.
I’ve been given permission
to return to an old way of being,
stay home, live simply.
What a relief not to be driven to excess.
Gorgeous!
This is wonderful
I relate to this on many levels. Well done…
Friend speaks my mind. Some days have been just this way, haven’t they? Your title grabbed me, and I enjoy the way you start with pronoun “I” and end with “we”.
I like that too, Melva