Choices

Each morning begins the same
I'm gifted (because it's not a given)

A day, a pocketful of hours (24 to be precise)
Some I've spent already, on sleep and dreams
Necessary. Needed.

Some I'll spend on phone calls, bills, laundry, dishes.

Some days leave upon my steps, just outside my door
Challenges, unbidden. Some days, some hours are spent there.

But almost never is there a day when I can not choose
How to invest some moments of my day.
Hours on some days, moments on others.
But never has there been a day where not a single moment is mine to shape.
The trick, I've discovered, is choosing wisely, choosing well.
Tic-toc-the-unstoppable-clock allows me to decide....

Will I worry? Fret? Be vexed? Be annoyed.
Yes, sometimes.

Waste. So often, a waste. 

Will I smile? Be kind? If not forgive, at least forget? Count my joys?
Yes, sometimes.

I'd not toss money out the window, not leave the outer doors
Agape when the heat is running. Nor would I use my white blouse
To wipe a grape juice spill. That would be silly.

Yet I'm learning still to be a wise and better overseer of
My hours.
My days.

My moments.

I will not have a chance to call 'do-over' on any day once passed.
There's always tomorrow - (until there isn't that is....)
Note to self:
Make better choices, more often
With those hours that

Are
Mine...

 

 Issy ~  November 2012