A Poem for Retirement

What is the plan; what will you do?
Travel?
Lol!
Words are such poor tools
and sound bites so impoverished.
Plans are the way of the past
Along with schedules, appointments, goals, objectives
efficiency and effectiveness
in the service of gain and meaning.
There will be a place for those of course
a smaller one.

I’ve lived a life abundant in gain, accomplishment, and meaning
and am grateful for it.
But now bliss will have its priority
in the country of exploration and creativity.
Where movies will not be missed
nor sunny days and moments
time with children playing in the dirt
and philosophizing with old men
listening to the ideas of the young
laughing often
listening to good music loud
and playing bad louder
singing with the window down
following the gravel roads and forest paths
to see what’s there
New ideas and ways of seeing
Finding the one sunny spot
and lying in it
Curling up with a good book by the fire
and napping.

The time will come for doctors, loss, and pain
soon enough
leading on to a new exploration.
Who knows what that will be like?
only liars and fools.

So now is the time
for bliss.