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©2016-2018 by Pat Durmon, Poet. Proudly created with Wix.com

And So, I Don’t Have to Hurry...

June 25, 2018

I look across the hayfield and see nothing but Queen Anne’s Lace, a field of wildflowers. Something is wrong here.

 

Instead of hay, we have white wildness.

 

It’s as if the flowers took the field by squatters’ rights.

 

I see some whiteness every year, but not here and certainly not in such force.

 

In the hierarchy of flowers, the wild ones rise quickly.

 

Some call Queen Anne’s Lace a weed, but I recall days when these flowers were picked and handed to me with such sweet love.

 

Beautiful like full moons on stems, but something is not right.

 

I look back at the field. Such fierceness. So unruly.

 

Nothing happening in an orderly way. The wildflowers are in charge of this man’s land. They are greedy and want more space, more say, so they push and shove and take it.

 

It feels dangerous.

 

And the way they have taken over makes me think of a race, hurrying to get ahead, to get what we want.

 

Right now, I cannot think of one good thing I ever gained by hurrying and racing and multitasking.

 

Our world is clearly addicted to speed, excitement, pushing. Everything is a race. Even on the internet, they tell me I need this or that to increase the speed.

 

One unholy blur.

 

I too am guilty of speeding, hurrying, trying to finish in the next ten minutes. I play “Beat the Clock” all the time. I push hard and fall hard.

 

Pushing myself and spreading myself too thin hurts me. I am just getting over a bout of sickness from having had too much on my plate (mostly good things).

 

I guess I belong in the field with the other wildflowers.

 

It’s as if I am running toward something or looking forward to something, but then nothing is there. Eventually, I get sick, then I look at the stressors, what I have been dealing with in family, church, community, friends. How often did I just trust God to handle it?

 

I hurry and push, thinking there is not enough time.

 

That is the lie.

 

It just turned summer. The lowing clouds are filled with rain, hanging as unmilked udders.

 

I speak to God, my Creator: I really do not want more time. I just want to breathe deep and laugh long and enjoy people.

 

What comes to my mind: You don’t have to hurry or get it all done. Enough time to do your one life and do it well. You don’t have to hurry.

 

I look up at a spacious sky.

 

The Lord of the universe is in charge of clouds, wildflowers, trees, and me. I really don’t have to hurry. (A lesson I keep relearning.)

 

Holy moment. A slow moment. A taste of goodness.

 

Blessings,

 

Pat Durmon

 

P.S. Thank you for sharing and commenting. I appreciate your taking the time to read my work.

Photo of a field of Queen Anne’s Lace near Norfork, Arkansas. Photographed by Pat Durmon, June 2018.

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