Silk Nets (or Distracting Father Time with White Chocolate Cookies)

You claim to be a brooder before a doer
A stewer before stepping up

Yet why say this with shame or hesitation?
There is no obligation here

Stew, brood, cave, dive, dwell, linger in those thoughts
until the words readily come

Take tea with Father Time while you think,
yank on his beard with a wink and offer white chocolate cookies with his PG Tipps

Watch the world slow to a still
 No hurry, understand?
This requires trickery, not speed

Out the window sill,
words, an elusive iridescence,
need a net made of silk not heavy hands
Gently gather them while Time stays distracted
(His weakness for white chocolate, hard at hand)

Too often, it would seem,
do others throw words unfettered into the world
Pulling pins and shambling off,
backs turned to what sentences are formed,
what damage is done

Or worse yet,
sitting and staring,
knowing exactly what is to come and simply not caring

You are cut from a different cloth,
silken with netted threads
Wound like cable and soft as breath

Consider it public service when you let Time go at some point
(He has a habit of lingering over his tea)
The world is out of joint when he procrastinates, you see

You are made for catching words and errant letters,
charged with coaxing them to light
 No need for worry here
The way you brood and stew is just right

Light lands softly on the shoulders who listen
Words caught with care and Time
Waste no more worry being someone you are not
The world needs you as you are,
brooding with thoughts