Jerry Chasen's Blog

Five years ago, in ’91,
I chose to send my season’s wish
in poetry, and I have done
so each year since.  This year’s finish

brings yet another stab at rhyme,
and check in on my state of mind.
But more than just this year, this time
I see all five years left behind.

It’s not just house, or city too
that’s changed; more too than a career.
It’s more than puppy, passions new,
or partner to me more than dear.

Five years ago, in Santa Fe,
I mourned the loss of my good friend.
Changes, unwanted, came my way
life’s song played its tune to mend.

In ’92, the quilt, DC,
awakened dreams till then asleep.
Life comes without a guarantee
of time; just promises to keep,

or not.  The ever present choice
is there, the question what to do
each time.  Vision’s clear, careful voice
in ’93 made sure I knew.

Guess what?  When playing with those rules
great things showed up, in fact still more
than I dared hope.  They worked, these tools-
a prayer of thanks in ’94.

A man, a dog, and more good byes
to friends–love’s lessons taught last year.
Like letting love inform my eyes
and letting life hold back the fear.

I was blessed these years, with the space
and time to have made dreams come true,
and not be called upon to face
the trials faced by others who,

less fortunate than me, for sure,
hadn’t the health, or dreams, or will,
that moved me on, let me endure,
and let me see these changes.  Still,

I think it’s not the changes made,
amounts of time, or win or lose.
It’s not what trinkets are displayed
that counts.  A teacher told me “Choose

a game worth playing, then play that
game as if your life depended
on it.”  The truth for me is that
the game and life, these years, blended–

the game was life–a perfect whole.
My season’s wish for all this year:
to meet that game, that worthy goal.
And thus to know a joy sans peer.

The taste of satisfaction come
not from triumph or job complete,
but from a hard day’s play been done.
Nothing, no how, is quite so sweet.

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