A Poem on Leaving the Junk Behind

Flying away
“Flying away” by Ian-S is licensed under CC BY-NC 2.0

If You Can’t Get Your Body Out, At Least Get Your Head Out

A Poem on Leaving the Junk Behind

By Jane Tawel

December 19, 2020


For several years I have been longing,

To flee my country, that’s been wronging

The little ones, the poor, the weak,

The different-hued, the hurt, the meek.

And while I wish I could just run

To somewhere that would be more fun

And somewhere that the rulers rule

By being kind, not being cruel;

Well, I have realized I am stuck

And so, I have to fight this muck.


The thing is that the people helming

Are far too often overwhelming

In getting in my craw and mind,

And making me feel raw, unkind

To others and to my own self.

So, I decided to now shelve,

The crud, and junk, and just plain meanness

And I will find some light and cleanness

by taking a long holiday,

from reports of the ones who prey

on peace of mind and care of heart.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ll do my part,

To care for others and be strong,

To fight for rights, and right the wrongs

And I’ll stay here right next to you,

But if I can’t escape in true,

At least I hope that I will find,

That I can go elsewhere in mind.


And so, I recommend today,

If you are feeling evil’s sway,

Or just can’t listen to more fools,

Or watch as people worship ghouls;

If you wish you could run away,

As I have wished day after day,

If you, like I, believe you’re done

And feel you will be overcome

By all the hate and all the scum;

Why– won’t you run away with me?

At least our minds away can flee.

To better places, we can be.

Yes, Be! Cause life is more than space,

Or against time an unfair race.

Life is about our here and now,

And from inside, we find our Tao.

If we’re stuck here, there’s still The Way,

To rise above the muddling fray.

Let’s run away and go AWOL.

For most important, above all,

Is finding that small place inside,

That in Love’s shelter we can abide.


From worry and from grief, depart;

If not in body, at least in heart.

I hope that we can practice presence

And obviate bile and excrescence.

I seek to make this moment whole,

By living elsewhere in my soul.

Oh, won’t you come along with me?

Just think how lovely that would be.

Because together, we can beget,

A loving, caring, whole planet.

We’ll start with just a change that’s wee,

By going there, just you and me.

And we will bid dark days adieu,

By souls in flight, just me and you.


So, here’s to you, I give a shout,

If you can’t get your body out,

Then give your mind and heart some rest,

And look in others for what’s best.

To find The Good is just the start,

To free your mind, and soul and heart.

So won’t you run away with me?

We’ll stay right here, our best to Be.

© Jane Tawel 2020

Published by

Jane Tawel

Still not old enough to know better. I root around and explore ideas in philosophy, spirituality, poetry, Judeo-Christian Worldview, family, relationships, and art. Often torn between encouragement & self-directed chastisement, I may sputter, but I still keep trying to move forward.

5 thoughts on “A Poem on Leaving the Junk Behind”

  1. YES🙌 I love this dear Jane, how true your words here ring within my heart and soul. It’s a choice to not allow others to steal our joy. Mindful consumption and intentional integration of it all, usually in manageable and small doses. That is the work of healing. We must make these choices on our own terms and set the limits. These days it’s far too easy to be overwhelmed and blasted with information. I liken it to standing in front of a fire hose. Taking care of ourselves, resting and knowing when to listen to our inner guide is key. Much love to you my dear friend ❤

    Liked by 2 people

  2. I love the whole perspective that inheres in this poem. It is indeed even more effective the mind and body get out of the strife than the physical absence of the body in the said strife. You remind me of the song that says our fathers were imprisoned but were free as a bird in soul.

    Liked by 1 person

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