Thinking Poem by Colm Keenan

I think one should dedicate some time each week to thinking, even just an hour.
It sounds quite logical.
But who amongst us remembers the last time they sat down and thought, purposely thought?

There is so much distraction today.
We are pitchers overflowing with gatekeeperish news.
Idleness is kept away by pocket-sized devices.
Our fingers throb for want of buttons.
The mind is unknowingly addled.

My childhood had great gulfs of boredom.
There were chores and there were thoughts.
I used to climb a chestnut tree and tease out the chestnut.
I used to go to a fast-moving stream and stand stock-still.
I used to go to crowded venues and wait around until after the event.