Sitting outside

Sitting outside listening to the cicadas and the birds, wondering how the leaves could be so symmetrical and varied, guessing when the lilies would pop open.
Was I just wasting time?

Thinking about the sweet gum as it thrusts into the sky above and the dirt below, asking myself how so many leaves could seem to appear from nothing, and how its seed ball is an elegant problem solver.
Was I not being busy enough?

Watching the clouds morph with easy grandeur, dwarfing the jet trails and overpowering the sun, their simple presence pulling metaphors out of me.
Was I being lazy?

Ignoring chores as defiantly as I could, letting the grass do as it pleases, even the vegetables left waiting for a little of my time.
Was I wasting the day?

Just sitting and sipping, not helping the economy or saving a soul or writing a letter or answering the phone.
Was life passing me by?