For a year or possibly more,
Decompression begins:
Purging electricity, electronics.
Fall away, Internet, Oh!
No more cellular,
**** the television set,
Except, perhaps, a radio,
Lest I totally forget....

Hello, paper,
Hello, books,
Come off the shelves;
Lose those ***** looks,
Warm again before my eyes,
Feel the press of my writing stick.

Thoreau, the fakir,
Left the social order
Just a year,
Though just how far
He really went
Remains foggily unclear,
And the fact that he returned
Suggests that Nature
Left him feeling burned.

So, like a diver,
Rising from the deep,
I'd take a while to meditate,
To let the busyness-es go
And put electric dreams to sleep.

I think
what saves today’s commercial xmas hype
from being absolutely nauseous
is the wide-eyed joy of children
when they open their gifts
and find their dreams come true

a faint echo
of the joy in the eyes of the Kings
when after their long travails
they discovered the baby of their dreams
had miraculously become reality

when you look beyond busyness
what is it that you see?
a world endlessly searching
for what it was meant to be?
a mankind desperately looking
for the answer to its ache,
striving to achieve
some sort of break
from its broken heart
of pain and agony,
hoping to fix this
crippled reality?
when I look beyond busyness
I know what I see
a world waiting for God's return
when he destroys the enemy
a world waiting for the story to turn
to the part where Earth is set free

the days go by in pleasant routine
only occasional disturbances
     with grandkids  unexpected visitors
     the mailman ringing at the door
          because the letter would not fit the box
     the neighbor asking for a favor gladly granted
     someone who wants to sell some things

the days go by
      preparing meals  go shopping
      splitting the firewood
      running the wash
      checking the email
      go swimming and do AquaFit
      occasionally have a lunch with friends

the days go by

and I occasionally wonder
about the undesired goal of passing all that time
as days go by

when we consider
    in one of the rare quiet moments
    of our hurried hectic times
what keeps us busy throughout all our days
we may discover that there is not much beyond quotidian chores
    that occupies our schedule
the job,  career, the family, the children
     mow the lawn, chat with the neighbors,
     go to worship,  bowling,  Sunday school
     etc., etc.

small time we give to figuring out the meaning of it all

what is it that we want
    when we have reached the peak of our career
    when our kids have left the house
     live elsewhere without need for our care
what is it that is left
    to strive for and achieve

pragmatically speaking
it may be useful to become alert
and contemplate such matters
    alongside our busy years
at least some time before
we find ourselves
close to the edge
that points us into different spheres

Why is it that every night
I change into my pajamas
Only to remove them
Ten minutes later
As I climb into bed
In my undergarments?

I reckon it is the routine
That calms me from my day,
Shedding the skin of
One day to embrace another.
It is the preparation
For my seven hour 

Sabbath where I rest 
From my seventeen hours
Of work, play, and relationships -  
Responsibilities that keep me
Too busy to take a moment
And enjoy the skin I live in. 

So each night,
I must shed that skin
In reflection of the day
That is now gone,
And rest as I prepare
Myself for another day.

Another day of busyness,
Another day of striving,
Another day of trying my best
To be the man you have
Created me to be...
To embrace who I am
In every waking moment.

What is this life of full of care
We have no time to stand and stare
no time to stand beneath the bloughs
As long as we stand like sheep & cows
no time to look the woods we pass
where squarrels hide their nuts in grass
no time to see, in broad daylight
A poor life this is, full of care
We have no time to stand & stare,

surrounded by love
and chaos and busyness
totally content :)