Be Somewhere You'll Miss One Day

Be Somewhere You’ll Miss One Day

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Let the school bus wonder why

Two seats are empty as it drives on by.

Be somewhere you’ll miss one day.

Be sometime that cannot wait.

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Cast your net on Here and Now,

Navigate true by wind of soul.

Stay clear of the shallows—that eerie tomb

Of sunken promises called ‘someday soon’.

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Ignore the siren’s call of the Grind,

those ceaseless gears that churn and whine.

Promising freedom and riches to find,

as the greater treasure is left behind.

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For, in the end,

all we hold

is what’s left of the soul

that was never sold.

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So let the school bus wonder why

Two seats are empty as it drives on by.

Be somewhere you’ll miss one day.

Be sometime that cannot wait.

A poem inspired by choosing to be a present father. Last night my boys asked if we could wake up early and go fishing. I ran the grind calculus in my mind for a perceptible moment before my soul answered ‘yes’ out loud. With practice, I hope the soul speaks more often. I am forever grateful that it did.