Days are days
Days are neither good nor bad. They’re just days. If you want to be a success you have to think like success. Not riches and glory; simple contentment.
Success means loving the weather.
Why fight the weather? It comes with the day. As the old folks say, any day above ground is a good day.
You wouldn’t be dead for quids would you?
Success means loving the seasons.
Every season is my favourite. You woldn’t want to miss the next one would you? Take Spring for instance. Remember this oldie?
Spring is sprung
The grass is ris
I wonder where the boidies is.
The boids is on the wing.
But that’s absoid.
I always thought the wing was on the boid.
Here’s a 7-liner I wrote for it a couple of years ago:
Every bird sings like the inventor of song;
Every flower blooms for eternity long.
All the trees stir, not a word said to wake them,
Their petals fall dancing as calmer winds shake them.
Children’s laughter is brighter,
Old folks footsteps are lighter
Spring brings us hope, renewal and love
You only get one go at success from here. It’s called the future
Omar Kayam, the 11th Century CE Persian poet (whose pen-name could have been Miserable Mike) wrote about the inevitability of death and despair in his Rubaiyat*:
The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.
Omar must have been having a bad week! If you’re only looking back and festering about past errors of omission and commission, you’re going to be dismal for a lot longer than a week. The only success you’ll ever boast about is being a complete misery.
I’m for enjoying the day I’m on. And today is Spring. Aaaaahhhh!
And Aaaaahhhh! again. Success.
My Kick in the Pants for you:
There’s still time left today to live well, be well and give well and find out what it means to be a success.
*Excerpt From: “The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam.” A rubaiyat is a collection of poems. Rendered into English Verse by Edward Fitzgerald.