Im far to busy to reply to your call,
Dont plague me nor try to hold me in thrall;
For I am me, independent of ye
So leave me alone – for apart Id be.
But
Alone is a place in a swirling mist
Which hides the truths which Loves You has kist;
For I set ascendent is hell on wheels,
As You, your neighbour, sinks under your heels.
Whats all this neighbourly nonsense you claim
Im supposed to abandon my I to maintain?
Thats yesterdays stuff, its a load of old guff,
Were deep in the twenty-first century stuff.
But
Its man with a mission whos sunk neighbours condition,
For too busys The Creed – with no inhibition;
Now the pleasures of courtesys not my job,
Because I rides ascendent – so Yous in the bog.
Im far too engaged to answer your text,
Whatever concerns, what the hell ever next;
I simply dont care if you care or not,
For I am ascendent – so dont care a jot.
But
Care is the sign of the Love we bring,
Care is the sign of the song we sing
To make Life a consensual endeavour;
Care is the balm which soothes our soul
Care is what joins us to make us whole;
Yer what?
All that crap doesnt matter to me – Im too busy.
Too busy to bother, too busy to care,?
Too busy to love – as love is a snare;
For Love is our gifts of commitment we share;
er commitment wossat?
Its me thass what matters – all that blathers old hat.
But
Commit is to dare to show that we care
For the people about us with whom lifes made fair;
But with I now ascendent share has died in the dust
Of Too-Busys rampagings and self-focused lust.
Phone you back, what on earth do you mean?
Im far too busy to engage in such scene;
Im playing politics game with the office crew
Which is far more fun – so I dont need you.
Youre too busy to thank for the gifts that I send?
The things that I do for you – heaven forfend
You remark, or regard or thank or unbend
Im beneath your Olympian notice;
Yer, thass it cause
I is I omnipotent, high
Apart, above, too busy to try –
Im engaged in the business o livin.
Oh really – But
Living is joining with people, in love,
Livings engaging with people to prove
That its people who matter if lifes to have savour
That its taking the trouble which gives life its flavour;
Not the pressing of buttons nor staring in screens
Ignoring the world as you print-out the reams
Of Systems-lead trash, as your neighbour you hash
For your consequent cry – Im too busy.
Weve run out of control between pillar and post
Like flies at a window who cant see that most
Of their energys spent in chaotically jetting
So people get lost in their furious fretting
Thus
Mannersve vanished down the drain
So all thats left is a nasty stain,
As each rides up over the other
For none of us thinking to bother.
Yer but
Taking trouble is troublen strife,
Theres far more fun to be had from life;
Trouble is trouble! cant be fagged with all that
Trouble for me is a load of old scat.
But
Taking troubles the heart of Life,
Its bothering that prevents our strife;
Taking trouble for that extra mile
Is what builds around you the gracious smile.
For
Grace is the central truth of joy;
Grace is not some silly toy played out on ancient stages;
Grace is the wonderful tool we use
Grace is the play that brings us news
That we arent alone, that were one with you
So stills our Spirits rages.
Because
For being forgotten is a deathly knell,
As being alone is the truth of Hell;
For Hell is not some place of flames
Where Devils play their awe-full games;
Because Hell is where the empty heart
Lives life alone – for Love apart.
So
When communications happy chance
Invites you out to join Lifes dance
Cease to be busys dreadful clone
Reply with joy – youre not alone!
Theres one outside whos thought to care,
Be pleased, be happy, for they know youre there.
BUT
Do it now – not sometime hence,
For do it then is historys tense;
Your brisk reply shows you care too
Are grateful for what he sent to you
To join you in the Fairy Ring
Of those who love to love Lifes Spring.
© Margaret Montrose www.thegoldenpath.co.uk
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