Chop wood, carry water

What is there to do

When there is no

Wood to chop

Water to carry,

When life is taken care of

Is too easy.

How is to live in

This moment and the next

When each care is

Provided and the rest.

Is it finding that

Untrodden path

Low branch scratching

Tree root catching on

The toes of 

Efficiency, speed and 

Scale.

Is it slowing down,

Knowing that the end-point

Lies within and never

Left us, that we rush

From here to here in

Wild abandon.

That there's some time

And some place that

Would see us become

At rest and at peace

And within the spark

That enlivens us.

So a world of no wood

Of no water of no

Struggle of a languid

Beige existence

Call for silence.

Silence.

Silence in the moments,
Silence in the living

Of a life that 

Claims no wisdom 

And yet shows

There's nothing 

Wiser.