Grasping at straws

Good morning! I great greeting as I crawl out of bed. It could be a smiling wife or girlfriend. The morning bark of your puppies as the lick you awake. Precious salutations you miss when they have left you. Gone home to visit Mom or passed on to the great beyond. Maybe the gray skies and heavy rain caused me to think of what is precious in life. The feeling comaradery, the sense of accomplishment or realization you lose one hour of precious life each day of your life. Each hour is an accumulation of your life’s self worth. If you are a pessimist, you remember the failures in life, feeling the weight on your shoulders until the weight, like the preverbal straw on the camels back breaks. Your worries are gone.

The optimists sees his life as a glass half full. Eager for their new hour to begin, and gasp at as many straws as they can hold. The more the merry. I work up eager to her the sounds of birds. My friend the Oropendola with it’s alien sound. The morning dove that sounds like a barn owl or the tiny yellow bird who screeches load for its mate.

I love the mornings the monkeys bark out their commands and watch them jump from tree to tree in search of food or an afternoon hideaway. Oh yes, how could I ever miss the cackling of the chickens and the rooster that so proudly calls out his commands. As he pounces around and stops, stretches his neck and crows his wake up call or commands to the hens to take care of his needs.

As I grow older each day, each hour is more precious. As I age my ears are weakening, I  begin to miss precious sounds. The sound of my girlfriend snoring when she sleeps. A cricket outside my window. Dropping those precious straws you once grasped with all your might. You hold onto sounds in your memory banks as if they were gold bullion, to save for a rainy day. The sounds of rain hitting the gutters or the tin roof are muffled soon to be non existent. Once an irritant is now a precious sound.

As I stare out the window and listen to the sounds. I pray to God and thank him for the sound of rain and the fact that I have good eye sight. I can hear the rain with my eyes. Not as loud as I once did but loud with the memory of that precious sound. Like a father does when he sees his grown child and remembers the gurgles and bubbles his little mouth produced or the memories of the babies first step.

As I grasp at my straws I remember a T.V. Show that has run for decades. It showed the sands of an hour glass slowly dropping to the bottom of the glass. Unlike the hour glass,you can not turn over and start again. Once you take that last precious gasp of fresh air life is over. Take each remaining hour and pick up as many straws in life you can and enjoy every precious minute. PURA VIDA!

Straws

Choice
My mind and body rejoiced
I finally made a choice
I decided to renew my life
Take Costa Rica in stride

I new it was a beautiful country
Would I find the people a mystery?
I found them hard working and gentle
Compassionate not brittle

Willing to teach you their language
Smile when your Spanish gives them anguish
They are generous with their time
Costa Rica and the people are sublime

I made my choice and never looked back
Happy I did not listen to my family who said I was whacked
I lost all stress and angst
Lost all anger and hate

Now my life is relaxed
No more anxiety attacks
I thank God every morning
For the woman that joined me

Costa Rica was a good decision
Beyond any simple reason
To leave the United States
And learn the Costa Rican ways

My mind and body rejoiced
I finally made a choice
Pure Vida!

Author: tmnugent

Poet Author. Living in Costa rica Pura Vida. Love to travel, play with my dogs and write poetry. My girlfriend and I enjoy life and could't be happier living here

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