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.