I’m looking for contentment by removing
anything that bothers me,
by ordering events according to my whims,
or by building barriers against the chaos of the world.
“Nyah, nyah, nyah, I can’t hear you.”
It doesn’t seem to work.
I’d be content, I really would.
But the deer nibble the fresh green tops of my carrots.
The moles and gophers honeycomb my yard and pasture.
The chickadees make holes in the ancient siding of my cabin,
and my naps are interrupted by their constant rapping.
The septic tank is ancient and requires time and dollars,
as does the deck and fencing.
So contentment is postponed until these things,
and others too numerous to list,
are restrained and tamed at last.
Until that time I rant at wildlife,
curse the winds that rip the siding,
suffer the arrows of fortune,
and wait and hope and strive
to hold things stable long enough
to find that peace I seek.
Or might there be another way?
Is there something I am missing?