Arlene Corwin Poetry

     Four Hours A Day

Four hours a day:

A title to portray

What has become a way –

Of life, of being and transferring

Life’s impressions and opinions –

Most ignored or blurred.

All that happens has an impact.

In the body – though unnoticed.

In the mind – through the times,

And in the case of moi, the rhymes.

Four karmic hours,

Evidence of karma’s powers,

For I had no thought of ever being more than

Life’s beholder; passive, on the sideline,

Witness unescorted by reflection.

Now it’s done and I’ve become

Salted in the brine of verse,

Guided by an inner sunshine that’s a beeline

To the mental universe

Of poetry,

Its balladry.

Effortlessly here I sit,

Mac upon and in the lap

Of luxury;

Passivity has never left me.

Involved in passive ways dynamic

Without taking part in antics

Of the present day,

I spend two, three, four hours in play,

Feel contemporary, up-to-date,

Elated by the process as an inspiration.

Quelle elation!

Quelle sensation!

A gold spun

Of twenty six straightforward letters,

Mixed, homogenized and married,

Occupying hours a day.

^{Four Hours A Day 8.17.2017}

^{The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; Revelations Big & Small;}

^{Arlene Corwin}