You clamor at me like golden gong winces in my ear.
You chatter at me like squirrel stores away oak treasure.
You boast at me like new king proud in plush velvet robe.
You pursue me like frothing lion clad in shadow.
You bait me like ganache dripping long with raspberries.
You serenade me like salt waves soft on moon soaked nights.
You overwhelm me like hurricane blows merciless.
Oh, but, Busy:
You are not so nectarous and alluring after all.
Oh, and this, too, Busy:
You are not so strong and forcible, either.
Oh, and one last thing, Busy:
The truth is I liked you once upon a time.
You rescued me when I walked wandering.
You blinded me when hurt arrived knocking.
You played me when I thought my good was your doing.
You tricked me when I thought my worth was your producing.
You lured me when I said false my family was not at your beckoning.
But the truth is not a lie, Busy.
This is Splitsville.
Day by day, thought by thought, moment by moment.
I will choose more than what you offer, Busy.
I’m choosing now what you tell me I’m missing.
Truth brings freedom, Busy.
And the truth is:
I’m not gonna miss a thing.
Don’t waste your time on useless work, mere busywork… wake up from your sleep… make the most of every chance you get…
+Ephesians 5, The Message