Where’s the Humour?

As I enter into my third blog, I realize that my blogs may seem a little flat…  Sorry, it is hard to be witty at times when I am really trying to make a serious statement.  What is that statement?  Well in a capsule: “Finding good physical and mental health is both an art and a science.”  It requires a good diet, exercise, proper sleep habits and stress-management.  There are so many other factors affecting health, like:  life events, social network, genetics and medication – to name a few.  And where is mental health without a little humour? Goals? To combine all these factors in so many different ways and proportions to yield physical and mental health for so many people and the majority of the time – This is art.

My idea of taking a poetry collection from the last twenty-five years and trying to squeeze health tips out if it is a bit bold – especially when many of the lyrics were written when I was not in a particularly clear state of mind 🙂 Still, I think it is useful – to draw ideas from the writing and try to make them work, in my own understanding – to promote health.  Moving forward with my ideas that frame the themes of Challenge, Love, Awareness and Perseverance might be a bit cliché, but where I can I will apply these thoughts.  In this entry I considered jumping out of order, to a shorter poem, but this poem was written last year and really discusses my quest to promote health in modern life.  The ideas of plants, fruit from trees and vines, and vegetables is a key metaphor here.

Seasons of the Day

Awoken by rays and rain breathes life in me,

Underground sleep just until the light is seen,

The planted crops grow and feed all of our life,

Resembling the rows where we live and subside,

Incandescent glow is on and I greet myself,

This existence that covets material wealth,

The rows of the houses, people just waiting,

For a chance to advance towards escaping,

I don’t want to be dying on the vine,

Dropping off the tree,

Rotting in the ground,

Never to be freed –

Just to share in the vintage – impassioned potential sparkles at the brim,

To give years of health in places where it is seldom seen,

We all must wait, for generations to succeed,

The sharing of moments is not allowed here,

To our fever and fret the end is always near,

The cold leaves in the autumn shake and then fall,

Through the wet ground below, seeded rivulets crawl,

In the ice in the end with our hopes frozen cold,

The thoughts glisten and may drip pointedly bold,

No excuse for children not to go out and play,

Even the vast silence is buried today,

Soon the subtle sun reaches up to the branch,

Pulling down expression dormant in the plants,

Grasping at the sprouts, felt clear down to the roots,

A new growth begins – the transition is never smooth,

I just want to be growing on the vine,

A strong part of the tree,

Rising from the ground,

Providing what I need

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