THE TRAIN CALLED PAIN

(a grandpa having fun – and being serious - with words)

One day he learned that pain

is fairly easy to explain.

He took a fall that caused his foot to sprain,

which made him grumble and complain,

but soon a voice inside was trying to explain

that he had jumped aboard the train

of this relentless pain

instead of simply watching it as it progressed across the endless plain

of his life. It was as if the pain

was moving slowly from Connecticut to distant Spain,

and he could easily obtain

the privilege of simply watching as it moved its chain

of fascinating (although painful) moods across the main

prairies and valleys of his life. It seemed the pain

was slain

this way, since it’s so-called power was now in vain,

and soon he thought he heard a song, a softened strain,

like soothing rain

inside his brain

 was washing off the stain

of this latest pain,

and watering the endless fields of grain

called love inside him, and he knew then he would gain

wisdom and tranquility from this surprising train

called pain.

+ + + + +

      This morning we did a good walk on some of Mystic's hills, the steep road into the Peace Sanctuary and then two of the steeper ones further down toward downtown. I was happy that I was able to feel strong all the way, even without using my puffer. 

     Later, I mowed the lawn, sweating in a pretty hot sun, but happily listening to some spiritual insights on my Bose headphones. Those phones almost make mowing a fun adventure!