Life is too short for advertisements.
Get back to the story. Will she find the person
who dropped the message? Will she keep her job?
Is the man in the mirror her true love? And which road will she take—
the one through narrow streets of the village leading her to a surprise
or the wide and fast highway?
Life is too short for long phone calls with someone
whose purpose is to hear himself talk. Commune
over a leisurely lunch or linger over dessert.
Life is too short to rush through meals, too short
to depend on wheels, too short not to take the meandering
path through woods, stroll along the beach,
pause and feel the wind in your hair.
Life is too short for memories. Write them down, pass
them around, repeat the details of an evening’s festivities
with laughter. Life is too short for tears. Soak hankies to
throw into the washer, bend over a flower and add to the music of
a river. Fill up a chalice on the altar. Sprinkle them over the cuts
and burns as needed. Give them away.