A JUST 'DESSERT'

What childhood trauma did you survive?

Here’s my true story. 

One day I cut through the fruit orchards and headed toward my Aunt Clyde and Uncle Barney’s house and walked inside. Turns out they weren’t home, but nobody locked their doors in those days so I went into the kitchen and raided the cookie jar. Grabbed a snack and snuck back out and plowed my way through a gang of free-range chickens. Next thing I knew a big fat rooster rushed toward me in a frenzy.

Later, in remembrance of that day, I decided to immortalize him by writing a poem called “Ode to an Avaricious Rooster.” It was one on my first poems, written many moons ago and published in Goldminds literary magazine.  

Yesterday you disappeared

 Like and ominous cloud.

You backyard terror,

Devourer,

Pecker,

Prouder

Than Foghorn Leghorn.

Eater

Of everything in sight;

Orange Mexican sunflowers,

Wild purple iris,

Violets,

 Craneflies,

Butterflies,

Anything fluttering,

Alive.

Knowing not

You were about

To receive a sure dose

Of poetic justice,

You crept up from behind,

Pecked me on the butt,

Grabbed my oatmeal cookie,

Split like a bandit…

And choked.

Ah, faux pas.

But what a just

‘Dessert.’

 

The Worst Blogger Ever

Well folks, here I am again after six months or so. Not that anyone would ever miss me if I go away for good. But the thing is, I haven’t had much to say on this platform. I’ve told my fellow blogger, Martha, that I’ll be rejoining the blogosphere again, but somehow I never get around to it.

I saw a video the other day by a woman in her mid-eighties or older. She still looks great at her age, and she inspires with her always-upbeat-self. In one of her videos she talked about platform building and such, and how she’s done checking stats and likes and loves and comments – because who has time at her age to be caught in an artificial world when there’s a natural world out there waiting to be enjoyed.

And the more I contemplate this, the more I realize why I don’t blog more often. It’s because I love nature. I love walking in the woods to the tune of birdsong. Down that nature trail is an aisle of divine beauty. Being outside beats the computer any day.

I recently told a friend that my phone is off half the day, and I may or may not even get online the other half. Life is too short to be caught up in artifice. Social media is all about projecting an image of yourself. It’s about presenting to the world a version of yourself that may or may not be false. It’s a venue through which many cry out for attention.

Having said all that, you know as well as I do that there’s no other way in today’s world to make it as a writer. But having an online presence, though it seems to be a must these days, is counterintuitive to the contemplative heart – or is it just me who struggles with this?

Drop me a line in the comments and let me know if I’m the only one – or if you too have struggles with social media overkill. And also, if you have reconciled these opposites – the necessity of social media and the spiritual need for solitude and silence – how do you balance these opposites?