Gems of the Heart

GEMS of the HEART

Nine years

Have come and gone

Defining the place

Where I have belonged

My mind,

to and fro, doth race

Regardless

of time or space

Reflecting upon

these years gone by

Often posing,

the question, “why?”

Each step, in this life taken

depends on those before

The sure, firm and mistaken

Regrets, do not take hold

The tests, both new and old

Build a stronger soul

resilient, bold

And wallowing in sorrow

Leaves us out,

in the cold

Each person, in my past

Hath enriched my life

A positive impact

Forever will last

The memories of joy, rife

My heart, a treasure trove

hath become

each gem a memory, person

or one to come

I look back at year by year

Yet tis the future that is unclear

To what goal, am I drawing near

These next years

That lie ahead

Are an unknown path

I tread

Though with sure steps

I plod on

Going towards ,

What lay beyond

Fascinating it is,

as I say this

I feel neither sorrow,

nor bliss

centered it seems

myself I find

of sure foot

and clear mind

though the future is,

uncertain to me

I go towards,

My destiny

And feel more and more

What it is

To be free

-Shiidon, September 2009

There is a reference here to nine years. Ten years ago I left for China to teach English. It was nine years ago that I returned after a life changing and memorable experience. I was reflecting on the nine years that have elapsed, the years preceding that and the contacts and connections that have reopened past "segments" of my life. That is where this poem comes from.

I have taken some time off of writing as some things have come to pass bringing me to much reflection and meditation. The most impactful is the purchase of my new cell phone. It sounds so mundane and materialistic but there is a deep story to it. I often shop at Costco and it was there that I walked up to the cell phone kiosk and spoke at length with I___ who works there. He asked me how did it go with finding Shahdi a phone in New Mexico. It went well and she got the one that she wanted. We then talked about the new My Touch, google inspired and android driven phone. I had been holding out for a new phone and felt it might be this. He and I spoke about it and other things regarding computers and life in general. After at least an hour of this I went on my way. The next day I went to the Kiosk and I____ was not there. It was his colleague, N_____. I said that I had spoken to I_____ yesterday and was pretty much set on getting the my touch.

"You don't know?" he said.

"No, what." I asked.

"I____ was in an accident last night." He said seriously.

"Is he OK?" I asked.

"No, I don't think he is going to make it." was his answer.

This was quite a shock to me. I ended up spending the good part of an hour speaking to him. He asked about my beliefs and how he did not believe in anything. We spoke about I____ and life in general. I ended up with the phone but we kept back and forth on this new subject, the possible loss of his friend.

Two weeks have gone by. I____ is in a coma and will either make it or not. If he makes it, it will probably not be good. It was a very bad accident. The subject of service came to my mind. I wrote a paper on customer service for my degree a few years back and have toyed with writing something more substantial on the subject. There is little true service left in our day to day lives. Look at the recent times we are in or the numbers we have all become. The word I hear thrown around from time to time that tries to define all of us is matrix. There is a matrix for this or that. There is a program that is being experimented with in which a job task comes up in Beijing for example, the program will determine the five best people, for example, to go on that project. Not a manager, not a person, a computer.

I know all the people by first name at the cell phone kiosk at Costco. I bought my phone there because they are people to me and not a discount. I have to turn in a rebate to get the same price it would have been at the T-Mobile store. I feel that I am serviced there. I know the name of the managers of the bakery and deli as I followed their careers in the store. The person who checks my receipt on Fridays is often being sure, and saved me once, that I have picked up a pizza for the boys. We are not numbers and formulas, we are not dollars. We are people. The day I treat our customers as dollars or our employees as numbers is the day I leave the work I am in. I have started the process of describing what has been formulating in my mind for years on this subject. I won't post it here as this is more a forum for my creative writing.

Until next time.....