A Schedule Retreated

To my funeral I could not go, on my schedule it was not.
With undeniable force, I was there, but not laid at rest.
One's life must be defined, managed, and given a slot.
Adherence to that is the measure of living done best.

Timed frames for duty and diligence are needed!
These planes of life you cannot refuse as if blind.
Meetings met at appointed times well heeded,
Have worth greater than mere presence of mind.

I check mark with glee a clocked event as done
A pleasure precisely so accomplished each one.

I could not go to my funeral as it wasn't planned
No allotment of my life listed was open to it.
While busy counting marks I was untimely banned
My worldly casket was shut and I lay restless within it.

Had I but defined an emptiness for the slots of calendar
The event could have been checked off as won.
I could sigh in pleasure for the penciled reminder.
But now I ask where love and life went undone.

Here in darkness I see regret, not for that which pleasured
in times done , but for that which was not so measured.

Kenneth Brahmer, 2009