Letters from Home

11 Minutes is alot of Time

Today is wrote a small stone called “The Time.”

I wrote it for two reasons.

First, because I notice I had about 11 minutes before the kids had to leave to go to school. The kids were happily engaged in something and I suddenly thought:

“Hey! I should write my small stone right now, while I have the time!”

And I looked at the clock, noticed I had 11 minutes to write it.

Then, I experienced that moment of “time discovery” immediately after reading a Facebook status by my friend Kathy. ¬†She wrote:

“Please pray for my cousin as she is very ill and on dialysis (both kidneys gone). I’ll be out of town this weekend to visit. #smallstone #tanka #micropoetry #poetry

the wet whisper
of stars tonight . . .
the standstill of my heart
as your prognosis offsets
the balance of time

What’s that in dog years?

Sometimes we build things up. I know I do. I can make something awfully big in my head. And I get scared by it. I just keep wondering how will I ever get around or through or under it?

One reason I love January is there isn’t anything in it but time. No plans for anything, no rush to get the garden in or throw a backyard BBQ. Just a month of ordinariness.

One reason I love small stones is how accomplished I feel when I have completed one. “I’ve written today.” I haven’t saved the planet or solved world peace. But I’ve gotten some writing done.

The Time (small stone)

 

at 8:09
I notice that
11 minutes seems like
a great deal of
time.

multiplied
many times by
all these rushing people
and squared again by the
sick ones,
biding and
abiding.

Then,
slowed,
by the
lounging dogs.