on being still

How boring

how boring to listen as waves crash upon the shore

how boring to watch a joyous child at play

how boring to be still while an Osprey dives to secure its dinner

how boring to witness the sun sink away in the distance

how boring to walk in the woods with no destination of journeys end

how boring to stare into the eyes of love

how boring to hold the hand of aging friend

how boring to be with oneself

How boring indeed