Expectations: Looking Forward to What?

Looking for new opportunities
But not sure where to go,
Veering away from the fanciful
Toward the practical;

And yet, never ceasing to dream,
Resting in the stream,
Like a fish waiting for prey
To snap up as they float by,

Vigilant and eager
For some clue
About what direction
I should take,

Not wanting to grab on
To any old way,
Enjoying freedom from involvement
Too much to get engaged;

Nevertheless, on the look out
For the next project,
Perhaps out of habit,
Not used to such a prolonged slow-down,

I notice how I rush,
Even though I don’t need to,
Accustomed to busyness,
Not used to sitting so much,

Wanting to get going,
One minute
And appreciating the scenery
The next,

Not knowing what’s next,
Dithering and wobbling
All over
And back again.

Expectation: Uncovering Suffering

Music playing
In my head,
Brass horn melody incidental music
From an old TV show;

I’ve been watching
Reruns again,
As it’s all I have
Since digital took over,

My old TV’s too old for that
And my budget tight
And so, I’ve been doing without,
For the first time in a long while;

I never imagined
When I was growing up
That there would come a day
When I’d have to give it up,

It’s a funny feeling,
As I’d gotten so used to it
And another reminder
Of inconstancy;

These expectations come from somewhere
And we don’t even
Know about them,
Until something or someone is gone;

And then, all at once
We realize:
There goes another something or someone
That we had been counting upon;

Without realizing it,
We had gotten attached
And now suffer a loss
Or a betrayal of trust
But either way, that’s the end of that.

Exotic: Joyful Stewing

Watching the icy rain
Pelt down again and again,
Strange weather,
Hardly winter at all,

Then turning away,
Back towards the chill inside,
Running low on fuel,
Lethargy has set in,

Reluctant to move
And yet, no trouble
Getting supper going,
Hot stew feels good,

Even when it’s reheated,
Warming the body
And cheering the heart
From the inside out;

So many years it took,
To learn how to cook
So well
Or, at least, to suit me,

Wondering for how much longer
I’ll get to do it
And whether I’ll miss it
When I can’t,

For sometimes it’s a chore
But then I remind myself
How it’s actually
A privilege

And this arouses joy,
Which goes into the pot
Along with the vegetables
That I have chopped.