Poem – LIFE, A HOBBY (By Joseph Cavera)

LIFE, A HOBBY (By Joseph Cavera)


Let it never be said that each of us

would be better off without a hobby.

A small side directive of which to begin,

where new aspects of life await,

waiting to be mapped and measured.

For some, the charm lies

carving small creations from bits of wood.

For others, sailing on a rigged vessel

into waters rough and rowdy

holds an inexplicable charm.

Yet another might spend hours

staring into an endless sea of crowds,

watching the people

pass, laugh, and breathe.

Their voices form a particular melody

for some, as the waves do for the sailor,

as the smoothing of wood does to the carver.

Our senses reawaken,

modeled in the spirit of this persistent pursuit.

We continue on, nostrils flared, hands opened,

and eyes widened.


In our time, we will continue

walking, writing, and communicating.

All focused applications

of the senses and rhythms

expelled through orifices

of the mind and body.

Are these not hobbies?

We feel our carvings,

breathe in the salty air,

and love the reverberations,

expressions echoing in the airwaves.

In a similar way, is it not a hobby

to breathe, to feel, to love?

If it is, some suspect

we’d be performing hobbies

until our brains cease,

our spirit shatters,

and our bones no longer serve.

Age, potential, and execution all rely

on the drive that pushes them

from abstract thought

to vivid, burning reality.


In my time as a writer, I at times

feel as though I’ve learnt naught.

But there’s a consistent card

available to those

whose resolve lay beaten down,

burned to the ground, laying in ashes;

a hope that springs as eternal

as the creations of man,

the waves of the sea,

and the laughter of people.

A passion that inspires your life,

if kindled properly, will ignite your days,

illuminating every moment in which you stare,

every breath you take, and every emotion

that cruises through your body,

letting your mind open,

your heart discover,

and your soul soar onward.