Today we're doing a what if poem. To me, it isn't much of a poem, but that's probably because I look at it wonky. If you want to know how to do one of these, go here.
I've got two of these things today. One happy one, one born of frustration.
What if I were a crane fly, bumbling through the living room of the Murphy house?
I might get stuck in the spider webs that drape the front windows for exactly this purpose.
What if I could avoid such webs and continue bumping around the whole house?
I could maybe mate with another very handsome crane fly and have millions of bumbling babies.
What if he wouldn't have me and I ended up a lonely old spinster crane fly?
I would probably end up squished in the door frame or desiccated on the floor behind the bed. But I would have tried.
Would that be enough? Would I have fulfilled the measure of my creation? Would I have been a good little crane fly?
What if I were a crane fly, bumbling through the living room of the Murphy house?
I might get stuck in the spider webs that drape the front windows for exactly this purpose.
What if I could avoid such webs and continue bumping around the whole house?
I could maybe mate with another very handsome crane fly and have millions of bumbling babies.
What if he wouldn't have me and I ended up a lonely old spinster crane fly?
I would probably end up squished in the door frame or desiccated on the floor behind the bed. But I would have tried.
Would that be enough? Would I have fulfilled the measure of my creation? Would I have been a good little crane fly?
©2020 by H. Linn Murphy
What if my dream from yesterday came true and I had only weeks to live?
I might have to re-think the things I'm doing or not doing well enough.
What if I ran out of time to change the mistakes I've made?
I would have to stand before my Savior shorn of all my walls and excuses.
What if that dream was a warning?
I would be a very stupid person if I just went on as I had before.
Why am I sitting here? Paralyzing fear? Inertia? Oh wait. I can do it.
What if all this rumbling, crashing hysteria was fabricated by unprincipled people who wish our country to fall?
I might have to move to Sweden where they don't believe in all this quarantine idiocy--where they believe in letting people form their own immunities so the virus doesn't get to phage stage. It's quite logical.
What if I get sick anyway?
I could maybe go to bed and treat this virus like any other virus--with intelligence.
What if I just do what God has instructed His leaders to ask of us?
I would then expect that I and those around me would rise to the occasion and be kept in the circle of God's arms.
Couldn't the rest of the world choose that course as well?
©2020 by H. Linn Murphy
Notable disclaimer: By the way, if you're worried that I'm thinking of going out there in public cavorting about, flinging spit and germs into the ether, don't. ;) I've not gone anywhere off my property except to help my aging parents in almost a month. Except yesterday I went to the grocery store complete with gloves and face mask. I stayed away from everyone and was a good little crazy quarantiner. Now back to your regularly scheduled madness.
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