Poetry Friday:Prescription for the Disillusioned by Rebecca del Rio

Every bit of the snow that fell two days ago has now evaporated back into the sky. So, it appears, was the lift in my general mood. As I was mucking out the barn this morning, I had dark thoughts: a return to soggy, stinky mud here, there, and everywhere. I would not let even the blue skies I could see from the barn windows cheer me up.

Then, as I made my way to the compost pile with buckets of muck, I caught sight of Bowie, deep into her morning nap. She looked perfectly content with what the day had given her: a warm breakfast, a good run around the pasture’s perimeter to check for its safety, a fair amount of affection. Who knows what the rest of the day would bring…at the moment, who cared?!

Further along, I could see that the sheep had re-discovered a patch of the pasture they could spend the day grazing over and resting. They seemed nonplussed about having to trade their winter “office” – a rocky ledge at the highest point of the pasture.

I, alone, was the Grinch who had come to steal the farm’s good cheer.

Thinking about this led me to (eventually) remember this poem, which is from this gem of a collection I clearly need to spend time re-reading:

Prescription for the Disillusioned by Rebecca del Rio

Come new to this day.
Remove the rigid overcoat of experience,
the notion of knowing,
the beliefs that cloud your vision.

Leave behind the stories of your life.
Spit out the sour taste of unmet expectation.
Let the stale scent of what-ifs waft back into the swamp
of your useless fears.

Arrive curious, without the armor of certainty,
the plans and planned results of the life you’ve imagined.
Live the life that chooses you,
new every breath, every blink of your astonished eyes.

4 thoughts on “Poetry Friday:Prescription for the Disillusioned by Rebecca del Rio

  1. I commiserate with you in your winter grump and gloom. That is, I really can identify with you. I often think, oh, if only the sun would come out or the rain would come down. That would be lovely. After all, isn’t the purpose of dark cloudy days to make rain?

    One of my favorite childhood memories, growing up in the South, centers on dark, rainy days, watching for the yellow school bus with all its interior lights on. Somehow, everyone was jollier on those days. As I boarded, I caught that cheer and added my own.

    Alas, no rain here. Nor snow. Yet.


  2. A wonderful poem! Would that we could learn to somehow wipe the slate clean every morning and truly start afresh.. the possibility of a whole new day of living laid out before us. That is course, not an easy thing with all the baggage we carry …

    Liked by 1 person

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