Business in the Middle Age
That's when they finally know,
When they finally realize,
That they've spent all of their time stockpiling money,
Hoarding their cash away,
Building a tower of furniture,
Of automobiles,
Of internet opportunities,
Of stomach ulcers,
Of heart disease,
Of chronic stress,
Of inflamed immune systems,
Of distant relationships,
Of divorce,
Of estranged children,
Of nothing at all,
But statistics.
What good is a life of statistics?
What do the numbers really mean? —
They ask/
They inquire because they cannot find an answer.
There isn't an answer—
Partially because they don't believe the one
They've heard their entire lifetime. So they quit their job and sell their businesses,
Try to look after their respiratory systems
With heart-healthy foods,
Go back to school to learn a meaningful career,
Get rid of that penthouse suite
Full of magazine-ordered apparel and furnishings—
To feel emptier than before.
At least, until they learn that satisfaction
Appears when one isn't averting a problem,
But acknowledging it.
In middle age,
The businessmen want
To be gratified,
Knowing greed
Won't accomplish them—
Yet, that doesn't mean they don't have a lot to learn
By unlearning.
In middle age,
The businessmen are as lost as when they began—
Only now they see the labyrinth of compassion
And human spirit for what it could be
Rather than what it should be,
And maybe someday…
They'll see it for what it is.