Here in this poem mother talks to child or pup reminding him of the folly of being too analytical about the fortunes and misfortunes of life and the serendipitous nature of discovering that which was under our nose the whole time!
© Copyright 2009
Thomas R. Farrell
A Poem for All The Right Answers
Randomness
Follows happenstance
Around the freshly cut grass
Like a puppy in pursuit of a nursing mother
And mother to her child
Speaks her riddle to help her pup to better understand
What reason never seemed to ever comprehend....
"You can never plan for the unexpected
You can never make reservations with
New ways to discover ......
"Be open to new ways, listen when you cannot hear a sound
Walk where and when the map ends
And imagination sketches pathways never seen....
"Inventions often come when no on was looking...
Happenstance is in love with coincidence
And loves to listen to serendipitous symphonies of thought
Playing in her mind but rarely ever heard
By folk like you or me ....
"Just be ...., my little Todo,
just do what any puppy dog was ever meant to do
But listen to the sounds coming
From the music never heard
And then you will discover
When least that you are looking ....."
Poetry by Tom Farrell
Read 840 times
Written on 2009-07-01 at 19:22
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
Mama's Riddle
Mama's Riddle© Copyright 2009
Thomas R. Farrell
A Poem for All The Right Answers
Randomness
Follows happenstance
Around the freshly cut grass
Like a puppy in pursuit of a nursing mother
And mother to her child
Speaks her riddle to help her pup to better understand
What reason never seemed to ever comprehend....
"You can never plan for the unexpected
You can never make reservations with
New ways to discover ......
"Be open to new ways, listen when you cannot hear a sound
Walk where and when the map ends
And imagination sketches pathways never seen....
"Inventions often come when no on was looking...
Happenstance is in love with coincidence
And loves to listen to serendipitous symphonies of thought
Playing in her mind but rarely ever heard
By folk like you or me ....
"Just be ...., my little Todo,
just do what any puppy dog was ever meant to do
But listen to the sounds coming
From the music never heard
And then you will discover
When least that you are looking ....."
Poetry by Tom Farrell
Read 840 times
Written on 2009-07-01 at 19:22
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text|
normalil |
|
|
|
NicholasG |
