Waiting vs. Being

Sometimes waiting
Is fraught with peril
And is measured in increments of bad news:
Dollars to the fix
At the auto repair shop…
Hours, days, years of pain
So second guesses the doctor
(On a scale of 1 to 10
How much pain do you have?
Really, isn’t that kind of personal?)
Can’t I just drive on forever?
Can’t I just live pain free,
Endlessly?
 
But as this universe spools out
Infinitely
So too our immediate reality is finite,
And is meted out in doable doses
Real, both in its generous randomness
Of pain and joy,
Suffering and celebrating each
In its own way,

Both in their given moment

Ahhh…
     Ouch…
          Om….